My Facebook Statuses

The expression on his face when they made him drink something sour in a bowl was priceless.

That devil of a woman exercises a fascination on me that I cannot explain even to myself. I fear neither God nor devil, but when I am in her presence I am ready to tremble like a child, and she could make me go through the eye of a needle to throw myself into the fire.

 “When you played the game with covert conniving, I played it with morals and ideals. You would like to believe that it is all the same wine in many different bottles. But, if you wish to play the game on your own terms, I wish to play it on my own. It is only that I would like to be quite open about them. Do you know what happens when you are simply being truthful? You can trample people beneath your feet and still feel good.  You are self-righteous even when there is an edge of hysteria in your words and actions. A feeling of entitlement drives whatever you do to others.”, He said, turning the pages of the book in his hands slowly.

Kneeling down, she started praying. While walking out of the church, I said, “I think you have gained weight.” She retorted, laughing, “But, in all these days, you noticed it only now—when I was praying?”

 “You can keep this with you.”, Michelle said, throwing the bottle of balm on my bed. And I smiled, thinking that I have not forgotten that we had left the magazine office earlier because she had severe back pain. And that I had disappointed her.

“He loses his temper often. I do not mind that. But, the things he said about my parents, I cannot bear that.”, Michelle (Shiphony Pavithran Suri) said. I said, smiling inside, “I know it without you saying it to me.”

“I really want you to do well. I hope that you will win a Nobel Prize or something like that.”, Michelle said. “I smiled thinking, “But, do Nobel Laureates have lunch with sluts?”

One evening, while lying on my bed with her legs on the top of that of mine, she told me, “I do not mind anything. What I cannot bear is that he does not trust me.” The height of irony is when a woman lies on a bed and tells her lover that her husband is not smart enough to trust her.

“Spank me.”, she said. I went near her chair and said, “I can’t, when you are glued to this.”

I like doing work where people feel that they agree with me only retrospectively, if they agree at all.

I enjoyed the anger on her face with great pleasure, thinking that age does something quickly enough to the skin of post-menopausal women.

While he was pulling my luggage inside the room, my new roommate asked, “Are you from Kerala? I like Kerala because it has the highest literacy rate in the country.” A voice inside my head said, “Dud!”

After ages, I talked to a very young girl on phone, and this kid’s voice was piercing into my ears. And for some strange reason, I remembered the little me telling our neighbor: “My mom thinks that you are a blabbermouth!”

You can see a lot of crazy stuff inside the Delhi metro. A boy twisting the ear of a girl. A girl putting her hands inside a boys jacket and taking it out. A boy placing his hand on the hip of a girl. A girl bending to read the title of the book I am reading.

“What do you want from me?” I replied: “I need your body, but not your soul.” “I do not think so. All you need is a character for your novel.”, she said.

When I see girls wearing shorter clothes, I know that it is a testimonial to the end of cruel winters.

A baby was standing on a desk in a restaurant in Green Park, crying, while his parents were feeding him. The expression on his face when they made him drink something sour in a bowl was priceless.

People tell me that I have created a modern day equivalent of Dominique Francon or Scarlett O’ Hara through my writings on Krishnapriya.

One dude picked my pocket. What followed was a long chase.

Having reported my Landlord’s character flaws to the police uncle, I am looking for a new apartment. But, I suspect that in Mayur Vihar, there is no space for people that are high-brow

ET even makes Priyanka Chopra comment on the Budget. If I were a movie star, I would be thinking: “Good god, so do I have to read all this junk to get a plug job done by ET?”

Mr. X: “Are you a follower of Victorian morality?” Me: “Yes.” Mr. X: “And you are a libertarian and an atheist?” Me: “Yes, but I see no clash.”

I somewhat like the breastfeeding scene in Pretty Baby.

God, Please raise the IQ of people.

I hear the Finance Minister saying that the Government is happy to see the smiles on the faces of oppressed people. These are overgrown babies.

I am sad that people think bad things about me because of my blog.

When the cook knocked on the door repeatedly, I did not open it for him. I think stupid people like him should learn how to speak softly.

My ex-land lord’s son has collected so much data about me from my blog and various portals. I heard him saying that I am a college dropout and was a freelancer. I heard him saying to his father that I could not even pass my engineering papers.

One dude tells me on my writing that he has not seen as much malice in anyone’s work other than that of Khushwant Singh.

I have a room mate who thinks that Narendra Modi is a mixture of Swami Vivekananda and Hitler.

Miss X: “If you write about the cleverness of this mature woman whose daughter interests you, that will be the day I kick you out of my list.” Me: “I know that people have their own interpretation of things. What could I do?” Miss X: “You can’t fool me with your smile. Your innocence is your weapon.”

When I talk to PR ladies, I feel that I have never seen such nice, wonderful people. Some of them even sound intelligent and well-read. One day, I should write about my experiences with PR people. I notice that when they want me to plug their boss, the PR lady is sweet and talkative, when the boss is grim and joyless. I often tell myself: “My novel will profit.”

When someone told me that “I seem to be one of those stalker kinds her 16-year-old daughter wanted her to ignore”, it took me weeks to understand what she actually meant. Does this mean that I look at the world through those pure uncorrupted eyes with which I watched the world when I was an infant?

In one of those days, I had noticed that in the Student Law Review blog of her college, she had the most touching Bio.

Everyone wanted to believe that Mr. Individual is nice and humble because he is as dumb as a mule. Deep down, they pitied him, but people who were sane felt contempt and revulsion. Given a chance, they would have spitted in his face.

I saw someone sharing my post on Twitter saying that it is written by a dangerous bourgeoisie.

Someone’s twitter Info: “Married. Mother of Babyjaan. Older than you. Not Available. Not Priyamani. Why is this relevant?”

Some people ask me whether I am studying. But, one bloke in the internet cafe here asked me whether I am a professor, presumably because I always have a book in my hand. It means that I am growing old.

I hoped that today would be a holiday. How can the society let little girls work when this city has become dangerous?

I kept staring at a girl’s feet and she covered it with a blanket. but, I can hear an interesting voice.

I “met” a very young journo who is a college dropout, and is sick of socializing and office politics. She also loves Ayn Rand and Gail.

Another conversation. Me: “Did you find a pretty girl who can make crisp Dosas for you?” Mr. Conservative: “No. They are looking for a girl.” Me: “I do not understand. How can you let them look for a girl for you?” Mr. Conservative: “The horoscope has to match.” Me: “I do not even know whether you are serious.” Mr. Conservative: “Why so?” Me: “I find it so ridiculous. Even worse than what the leftists say.” Mr. Conservative: “Horoscope is fine, Yaar.”

Today, a Facebook friend who met me asked:”Are you an eccentric?” When I asked, “Why do you ask that?”, she said, “Because you look like one”.

I have a liking for pictures in which babies yawn.

I am fed up hearing “God, you look so innocent. But the things that go inside your mind are so evil!”, or words to that effect.

She: Why do you share your blog articles with me? Me: Because I think it makes a lot of sense for me to be in good terms with Malvika’s mother.

If you debate the ethical aspects of revenge with someone, you will almost certainly hear worn-out bromides like: “Forgiveness is a virtue.”, “An eye for an eye will make the whole world blind.”, “The great Mahatma Gandhi once said that only the strong can forgive. The weak cannot forgive, Shanu.”, “But, do you want to be one among those little people who had harmed you?”, “After all, what purpose does revenge serve?” If you are debating a girl, however, it is easy to drive her into defending positions she would not want to defend. Ask her whether she would preach forgiveness to a rape victim, and ask her to forget and move on. Now, is it fair to compare molestation or rape to murder or similar acts of brutal violence? I think not. I think molestation and rape are acts of milder physical violation. Wouldn’t the victim suffer from life-long shame and guilt? But, when you grant legitimacy to those feelings, isn’t that a slander on those innocent women? What now?

I do not know why it is thought that it can be written out of hate.

An uncontrollable desire to see a high IQ woman doing household chores.

Yesterday, I saw the marketing Uncle in my magazine office walking around. I had heard from Michelle Didi that he once told her: “You look so pretty. On the day of Onam, you looked so beautiful in your Saree. So pretty.”

The average guy has falsely rigorous ethical standards, but in reality, he doesn’t even have minimal standards. I once knew one dude who believed that we all should toil with no self-interested motive, but he also believed that anything goes if it profits you. Writers who claims that they find people who network and talk repulsive, but yet take orders and kicks from their superiors. Men who consider charity a virtue, but do not mind fraud.

Some PR lady called me up and said that my article on online education is so well written and so beautiful and that this means that I should write about her clients. WTF! It is not.

When a classmate once told me that his pocket money was 5 paise, I did not understand that he was being sarcastic.

Me: “If you read H. L. Mencken, you will be laughing all day long. There is no Indian journalist who is in the same league of Mencken.” Mr. X: “If you read Savita Bhabhi, you will be having a hard-on all day long. But, that does not prove anything to me.”

There are days when you see all these crummy people barging into the metro, and they make a lot of noise. Today, I saw a liberated young lady calling someone “idiot” for pushing her. And these days I am so absent minded that I press my company card instead of the metro card, and the machine makes a beep noise that scares me.

Mr Ex-colleague: I am glad to know that you have a company card. Me: If Mr. Marx and Mr. Brilliant deserves to have a card, why do not I deserve to have one? Mr. Ex-colleague: But Mr. Marx and Mr. Brilliant have perfected the art of saying “Yes, Sir”, which you don’t seem to have.

Yesterday, I heard a flatmate whining: Facebook Mein Likha! (He wrote about me on Facebook). Hehe.

I can see a girl through my glasses who shakes her head like an obedient High School girl when someone tells her something. The moment I saw her head shake, I understood that this is her first job. Everyone morning she comes in so early, moves her hair from one side of the head to another and picks up the phone. But, she is so clever. She conned me into doing more low IQ work today.

It is not that I enjoy being in a room full of girls all of them constantly trying to impress each other. Through the crack of my headphones, I often hear: “When I was with Economic Times, I practically ran the whole organization. Later, I went to do my Post Grads in Medieval History.” and such like nonsense. I will be rolling my eyes.

One social networky Editor here minimizes Facebook whenever someone goes near her desk. Heard that someone wanted to tell her. “It is Okay, Merril. Facebooking is not a crime.”

Malayalees should celebrate Onam every year. We shouldn’t disown our culture, customs and traditions.This is something of primary importance to me.

God! There was an earthquake. It was so scary! All I remember is me screaming: “Come quick! I can’t die at this age!” I was confused when my bed started shaking, and after a moment of hard thought, I said to myself: “I just survived a cancer threat. And now it is an earthquake which is going to take me to hell.”

Till yesterday, I used to wake up every morning hearing my room mate scream: “Bandh Karo, Bandh Karo”, because my alarm rings at 4 in the morning. Initially I had problems translating it into English in my sleep, but then it became somewhat obvious.

My room mate has no social conscience. I am waiting eagerly for him to vacate the room and leave this place never to return. But he has not even started packing his bags. Is there no mercy in the world?

Please Don’t tag me on videos in which fathers mercilessly expose the true, ugly face of their naughty daughters who turn naked on webcam. These girls should be spanked and sent right to the naughty corner instead of being paraded on Facebook for the amusement of perverts.

It is strange that after six years of schooling in Hindi, all I remember is “Deepavali ka din hum log khushi manata he”.

When you are being sarcastic, you are taking delight and amusement when the victim is burning in shame.

I just bought an instrument box. We Economists need instrument boxes. I see a tiny pencil, Eraser, pencil sharpener, compass, divider, scale and other drawing instruments in my instrument box.

Beneath all his pretensions, somewhere deep down he senses he had betrayed something he never should have & that it was his own mind. In the middle of the night when an anxiety strikes him, he stares into a vacuum & blinks.

I am reading about “An economist who spent two months in jail, charged with blasphemy against the Virgin Mary” and “An American economist who refused to use a telephone, make his bed, do the dishes, or clean his clothes, and gave all his students the same grade, regardless of their work.”

When even apostles of selfishness like Nathaniel Branden say “Aside from cases of violent coercion, as when someone points a gun at you, you are responsible for your reactions. No one “makes” you become sarcastic”, we should know that the fate of sarcasm is bleak indeed.

I am really appalled by the cold, conscious apathy people display towards truth. But no one cares. What should I do?

Well crafted sarcasm puts a person in the position of a mink that walks blindly into a scented trap.

A man faces a dilemma when he a sarcastic comment is hurled at his wife. He is compelled to prove his backbone by a tight slap-or he can listen silently, smiling like an imbecile thinking that he is being smart & tactful. The sad fact is that it proves that he has neither intelligence nor a backbone, because the man who hurled the insult might know too well that it is true and didn’t expect a slap, precisely for that reason!

I would more like to possess you than caress you or see you naked, not possession in the normal or absolute sense, but on a deeper and much more important level. Do you see? It is the closest to an approximation I can ever reach!

I had no idea that sarcastic comments can evoke so passionate a reaction. I can’t even begin to communicate how pleased I am to know that truth hurts. I love to see this kind of reactions of hurt and amuse myself. My new experimentation is how sarcasm can work on people who are worthless to me.

The pretty girls in my home are mugging like mad on central bank note issuance and foreign exchange rate policy. How I wish they know that I am an Econ nerd! Sigh! Weeping! Sob! Sob!

I am like the mean, fanatical ant that repeatedly comes to bite the elephant which is hardly aware of what is happening to him. Ant feels sorry for himself, but it will pass.

You shouldn’t’ ever sacrifice justice to mercy, as probably the “cost-benefit analysis” arguments against justice often leaves much to be desired. To me, delivering justice under statism means both lose, leaving the incalculable benefits to the “society”. An abstraction nevertheless, but that is not my point, which might be well taken.

Is wondering what a “libertarian” would do when his new coercive scheme is accepted by the Government! Would he run around his office exclaiming “The State Likes me!”, wagging his tail, howling and yelping? When it’s pushed through in the name of “strategy” or as a “transitional phase”, what gets more acceptance is not liberty, but the person. One should have the grace to say he wanted just that!

I wonder why this puppy is too happy when I come home,so much so that it tries to climb into my lap and touch my fingers!

The irony of being wished a happy and productive day by someone. Just like being wished a happy journey by the highway man!

My myopic elitism made me too harsh on a prostitute who tried to con me into a deal on a street here. I shouldn’t look down upon her. Yes. I should appreciate dignity of labor-honest labor. I should grant her as much. The deal she wanted to strike was honest, however despicable it might be.

Heather Woods wonders whether I love talking in riddles or is just mentally insane. It must be the first. I can make some obvious arguments against the second, but it would only prove that I am not stupid-It won’t be enough to prove that I am not crazy. Both are not the same, as you can easily see.

I think there is a hell of a lot of difference between understanding sarcasm and understanding the underlying concept of insinuation. Much before coming to grips with the concept, children understand it when they are poor beings at the receiving end. In this aspect, I think sarcasm is a lot like money. We all understand its value much before we learn its evolutionary and theoretical aspects.

My experiences prove that my intuitions were all too much a sober portrayal of hard reality.

I wish to deny you everything, except me. Do not ever think that I am denying you more than I deny myself. If you feel I am making a saint out of you, I feel am making a greater saint out of myself.

Being the technophobe that I am, seeing an option ‘Virgin Mary’ in my volume mixture leaves me shocked!

God, Why don’t I stop her? Am I Howard Roark?

A pretty dress every day. Blog is your baby.-Lakshmi

“I feel no desire at all to talk to you, but I need you immensely. I feel so dry without you”, said I. “Am I like food?” “If so, the reality is yet to set in.”

“I’ll be going out right now!”, she said. “With boys?” “You’ll be jealous if they are boys?” “You already have a lover. How would two more make me jealous? It would only make you promiscuous and help me feel better.”, was my retort.

I always wonder why an otherwise silent person like me was eager to state such truths because it was never to inflict pain. Even the sight of the slightest pain in others would make me feel terrible.

I do not know what to say. I am not sure whether it is a feeling of solidarity that I felt when I heard that Mayuri Sinha has the same degree I have, from her Dental College-Loser cum laude.

Truth can enlighten. Truth can hurt. It can hardly annoy. Especially the truth one dare not admit to another.

An American Journalist tells me that Indians often use words inappropriately. Saying that she is my ex-lover is similar to saying: “He is John, the guy I bonked last year.”

When I say “I wish to see you in all purity”, it means “Take your clothes off!”.

He held her close to him. Moving his hands tenderly through her hair, he softly kissed her forehead. She slept peacefully, placing her head on his lap.

Yesterday I fell into a ditch. Today a vehicle ran over my legs. Looks like I am becoming a more focused thinker lately.

I am reading the blog of my future editor. She is full of compassion. I love working with compassionate women.

Someone tells me that whenever she approaches me with her problems, I thoroughly convince her that she would be better off hanging herself. And then I wonder why I have such a hard time getting laid.

It was not even a hatred directed at a meaningless abstraction called humanity. It was draining cold contempt, and nothing more!

I knew more about you today than in half a decade. That’s my gain. Now you can take your two cents. I gave the kiss hoping I am a poor learner. For once I wanted to be just that. Something I never ever wanted to be.

I laughed out loud reading what my Finance text says: “Governments never issue stock because they cannot sell ownership claims.”

An organization I wrote for added insult to injury by sending me mails saying they have given out cheques worth 2.3 million in the last few days when I am yet waiting for mine for long. I wrote back: Hehe. When you pay out millions, make sure that my measly cheque doesn’t get lost in the mail! I gotta buy myself a bowl of stew.

“Virgin Mary,you’re saintly. You’ve never tried to flirt with me in all these years. Many might find it saintly, but I have my own moral values.Preferences simply are. I often think you’ve something which I look for. I care not for what you have as such, but for the fact that you have it, but then it makes me uncomfortable.” “You express yourself pretty well. I understood everything despite its complexity.”,she said.

Restaurants and movie theaters ask people to take care of their belongings. I think people should stop being so emotional and get real about rape and molestation. I do not know what is wrong with people who cannot think straight.

My prime detractor goes to every single launch and conference in the city. But, that clever cookie won’t even look at my face, like the shy toddler that once walked into our office.

A girl in IE duped me with her description about the good food in a restaurant nearby, and when I was about to join her, she said that she was back in her office and that we can go tomorrow.

An SMS I got: I can’t believe that I read the whole article. I am amused and disgusted reading your thoughts.

I remember telling a friend: “But, I did not know that you have such a pretty sister.” He was silent for long, and then he said, “I am not surprised that all your bosses hate you!” I remember telling someone else the same and he just said, “Okay”, and I could amuse myself sensing the silent anger and helplessness.

Whenever I talk to a pseudo intellectual woman, she begins by saying that there are no absolutes and that things are not black and white.

I am sad when I see my friends list dwindling. I write about them only because they are such big meanies.

I lived in Kerala for more than two decades, and communism never had any appeal on me. I, of course, knew some communists and had seen these people in movies. And my home had the three volumes of Capital when I was a child. It was not even that I resisted that ideology. I just did not give it any thought.

When I hear about their grand plans to tax the rich, I suspect that these government guys will tax me more when my novel becomes a best-seller.

I do not know whom to believe and whom not to. Does saying that make me look naive and vulnerable enough now?

My mother smacked me firmly and admonished me for speaking my mind.

I am amused when I see people who call themselves Poetesses.

People ask me: You were born in Kerala, and still do not drink or smoke? Do not tell me that you do not do any damn thing.

I feel sorry for the kids who shoot people on a massive scale. It might be evil, but they are hardly mistaken.

I wish I could buy some high IQ woman who will talk to me all day long. I should earn a lot to do that.

Are Ayn Rand-ian villains “Ayn Rand-ian”? Take The Fountainhead. What is the worst thing that Peter Keating does? He drives Lucius Heyer to death by flashing an old forged document. I have seen countless such people, and they were doing it to perfectly nice people. What is the worst thing that Toohey does? He does a lot of backstabbing, and that is worse. But, directly, the most he does is shouting at Peter Keating’s mother.

Mommy yelled at me today.

It rained, and my trousers are wet. But, I am glad that the stupid people in the metro station did not touch me.

I am liking Cadbury Dairy Milk Shots.

Some dud writes beneath my blog post: “What’s worse than being useless is being useless and oblivious to it”.

My room-mate wonders whether I was watching comedy shows all day long on Sunday. I was blogging.

These days people think that I am trying to con them into something to write embarrassing things about them.

I am listening to my reasonably intelligent detractor screaming that no one would willingly surrender a free lunch if offered one. He should know.

What makes me happy today is that when I get back home, my room mate won’t be there. He has left to do PhD in some esoteric topic.

Thinking about Cutiekrishna.

I did not read anything much in the last 3.5 years other than my own thoughts.

My Ex-Colleague: “It is too bad that you write so much when you have no desire to reform the world.” Me: “Children like Ice Cream because it tastes good, and not because having an Ice Cream would stop global warming. It might, but that is not the point.”

I get so many emails from the Commerce Ministry, like: “Anand Sharma leaves to woo some of the world’s largest Sovereign wealth funds in UAE.”

I gather that many journalists/policy analysts believe that expert take on economic issues does not have more legitimacy than the views of the common man. So, why do our journalist people talk to economists when they are doing a story on the fiscal deficit? They might have as well talked to the guy in the barber shop?

“Why are you smiling at him?”, I asked my father. “He smiled at me, and I smiled back.” “Why did he smile?”, I asked. “He might be a student. I do not know.” ” If you do not know, Why did you smile? Why?” He asked, “Why should there be a purpose always?”

An editor on Facebook tells me that she does not talk to me because I sound like one of those stalker types her daughter asks her to avoid. Is that true? Please rate me.

I am really thinking of finding a super smart woman to marry. I also worry about my baby’s IQ.

If I marry Krishnapriya, my child will look a little less like me, but his IQ will still be astronomical.

I was watching the facial expressions of a baby at the restaurent. I think her mother was explaining to her what a dosa is.

When I placed my hand on her hip, she adjusted her top. I moved my hand through her back, stopping short of her behind. When I touched her breast, I felt as if I were touching a mannequin. I felt nothing.

He is there, but not quite there.

The most complex of all is the mind that convinces itself of its simplicity.

iDiva says that when Sharmila Tagore posed in a bikini for a Magazine cover, the “issue” even raised questions in the Parliament. WTF!

Corporate CEO-turned-Pseudo-intellectual sounds really irritable on phone. I should have told him: “This was not how you had talked to me before. I had reviewed the book you had edited, and it was not a positive review. And for whatever reason, it did not get published. But, I am sorry, the book was simply not good enough. I agreed to review it only because you have moderately interesting views in a third-world country where the range of publicly debated political positions is quite narrow.”

Me: “It is a virtue to like beautiful prose. I would not listen to a song if it is sung by a frog, even if someone wants me to believe that the lyrics is awesome.” Soham Das: “Too bad you ain’t gonna breed children.”

When I got an email from Tata Legal cell saying that I have a huge bill to pay, I said that I will sue them back for poor quality services. I soon got an email saying that they are sorry and that my bill is now 0 Rs. This mail too began with a Dear, and ended with a Warm Regards.

Happy Women’s Day, people!—-An educated Imam.

When I tell the stupid people in the metro station: “Don’t touch me”, they want to touch me again and again.

Prashanth Perumal saw the business card of a lady in his office and fell in love with it. He now says that he wants something like that.

After these liberated ladies, I think now it is the turn of men who say that we should not marry, and be slaves of the anti-male society.

She said, “It is a little unnerving that you remember everything I say. Sometimes I speak without thinking much. I hope that you do not read too much into what I say!”

Once I told a journo on Facebook that she is “very insightful”. She is incessantly pinging me after that. But, I was being sarcastic. Poor thing.

I have not had enough sleep, and I was trying to take a short nap. Then, a kind lady from Vodafone woke me up, and I had to help her spell my name.

Krishnapriya said, “You remember too much, and I remember too little.”

When I see these noisy babies in the Metro, I feel like throwing them out of the window.

I remember a person who loved placing a pond fish in her hand to see it struggle, before putting it back into fresh water.

I realized how alienated I am from religion when it just occurred to me that the Shiv Mandir near my home is a Hindu temple.

Once I heard him scream: “Are you Shanu? Look here. You have got zero marks in this examination.”

Once a boy threw a piece of chalk at him when our Graphics lecturer was facing the black board. He went on blindly after turning around, raising his head. I remember a day in which he decided not to mark attendance. When we all asked: “Attendance?”, he said, smiling “That I will do.” A boy asked, ” So, are you going to mark all of us present’?”. He turned his head in a contemplative gesture and said, “That…………That I will see”.

I think the greatest amusement in life comes when you can see little people as if they are naked.

When I was a child, I saw an evil Policeman saying to a young girl in a movie: “You should not lie to Government Uncle. Government Uncle will find out.” For some reason, he became my hero.

I remember someone saying smugly: “It is done. It is all over!”

Me: “Facebook banned me for too much Facebooking.” Mr. X: “Shouldn’t they be happy?” Me: “I too think so, but for some strange reason, they do not!”

I wonder why I see a lot many women walking around, with their hands apart, palms out. It is scary!

One girls’ status: Signboard at a laundry : “Drop your pants here!” Another girl wrote below it: “I saw a sign on the inside door of the bathroom in a restaurant: Please adjust your dress before leaving!”

It hurts my sensibilities when mothers proudly announce on Facebook that they talk to their children like they should be spoken to-They yell! I think they should not be allowed to write newspaper columns, or even have children.

“I treat those comments as an equivalent of: The purest one, I have not seen you in a while.”—V.M.

Reading an old leave letter which says: Subject: I want leave. “I am taking leave today. This is my leave letter.”

She: “I remember a boy who put a coin in the vending machine. The coin got stuck, and he said: “Look at that!” I tried punching it so that the drink falls. It did not work. He said “I guess it is Okay”. I felt really bad for him.” Me: “You are not supposed to.” She: “It works at times. His punch might have worked. My punch is very ‘sad’. But, I think he was shy. He also said that somebody else might get it.” Me: “I know that you know better than all that!” She: “I like the idea of being smarter.” Me: “I know that you do. But, you do not need my soul.”

Virgin Mary says that the long, rambling sentences of Evgeny Pashukanis makes her blink several times.

Reading Mencken, Lakshmi thinks that she hasn’t been this entertained since she discovered George Carlin! I remember saying that “I haven’t had this much fun since I rejected God”, when I read him for the first time.

The mystery of my missing childhood crush is solved after many years. They had changed our classrooms after 1st standard. I went to 2nd B and she went to 2nd C. But, Ask me why. Because I was a good boy who studied so well.

Virgin Mary tells me that as a lawyer, I am a wonderful person to know. It is almost impossible to get as much business from one single person.

Exaggeration is a relative term, isn’t it? It means an inaccurate statement which bloats up the objective facts. To bloat up, the facts must be objective. Otherwise it would be a misrepresentation. It would be outright falsehood. It would never be an exaggeration or overstatement.

Invidia Vita needs a rich bloke to pay up for college. She should ask an evil dude in my office who once stalked me. He is willing to pay up and can take enough nonsense from a lady. But, I doubt whether he can cough up half as much! And he would have a hard time spelling “California” right.

We started a cause for a 17 year old girl who removed us. “Little girl, come back home”. With a description: “In a world where a typical girl’s IQ ranks way below her body temperature, a kid like Isha was a dream come true.”

A girl like you shouldn’t worry her pretty little head about complicated things like backstabbing. Coochy-Coo!

Watching movies? Lakshmi should drop her casual attitude towards life!

Some girl asks me why I chose Virgin Mary as my partner, and not a Sita or a Yasoda. It appears that secularism has not seeped down to the masses.

A journo who asked me to “Get lost!”: “Ever since you added me on your chat, many 20-year olds are adding me. Grrr! Oh God, I am not a fish in the pond for these boys to throw a net. Grow up, Dude!”

I was never ever sarcastic as a child, but I remember turning off people from kindergarten itself. “A gentleman never insults anyone unintentionally”, wrote Oscar Wilde. I wasn’t a gentleman.

One hot Television anchor sent me a friend request. I was wondering: “Good God, have I arrived?” The conversation went as follows: Me: “Thank You, Ms. X! What made you choose me as your friend?” Ms. X: “I just responded to your poke. Why did you?” Me:”There could be two answers for it. A honest one, and a politically correct one. Which one do you prefer? The honest answer would be that you are pretty, which I think, is a legitimate reason by itself. The politically correct answer would be that you are broad minded and very intelligent, but I am a bit shy to state it for you, because it became evident only after you sent me the request. So, I would request you to be content with just the honest answer.” Ms. X: “Thanks for the compliment.”

I just saw a dream in which I am a lifelong patient, and when I woke up, all energy had gone out of me.

My note to an older woman who is still “crushable”: Happy Birthday! You should be honored because it is a rare privilege. I made an exception for you because you certainly can make a concept look retrospectively obvious.

After half a decade, I saw someone in a dream-again. It was someone I have not seen yet, along with someone I have seen. It was a pure, warm dream with no complications though every reason told me that it should be complex and dramatic.

After a fly-by-night doc bilked me last year, I have become a hypochondriac. Now they tell me now that my bodily ailments are because of “trauma”.

“I was a good girl as long as I agreed with your arguments without questioning. But, now I have become a bad girl all of a sudden! You derive your self respect from people like me.”-Kaveri Gupta

To say that the world is insane is not much different from saying that my laptop runs on electricity. You can ask me to think that it runs on spiritual energy, but it unfortunately does not.

Why do I see a lot many old religious women whose main agenda is proving that 1) Obama is evil 2) Islam is evil 3) Immigrants should be kicked out 4) “Even if I say all the things I say, it need not imply that I am a racist!”?

I once rejected a relative saying this: “Is long-suffering and wish to excommunicate-throw the rascals out. I will kick you out if you are 1) a man, IQ<125 2) a woman, IQ<110 and/or lacking in Sapiosexuality 3) Fails the libertarian purity test (In grave trouble if you support War, Immigration Restrictions or Corporal Punishment) 4) Prefer casual talk or flirting over philosophical discussions 5) Enjoys persecuting young innocent Nerds who advance human civilization. You fit the bill perfectly. I wish to show you the door! I have messaged you to inform that you’re out of my list. Thanks for your patience in reading this message.” He has added me back.

What kind of a slimeball are you? Writing what people told you personally? You come out as a human with no soul! Evil, malicious creature you are!——-Some girl writes in after reading my blog

“If I do not tell the truth, God will not roast me in hell. My most punitive teacher is still reality itself. But, that is not your case.”-Me, asking a religious ex-colleague to confess.

One idiots’ favourite quotation: “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” I cannot see any good reason why low IQ people are so bent on this point. Yes, perhaps the world would be blind. But then, wouldn’t it be totally worth it? I think people should mind their business.

Me: “If you work with Delhi Mint, how come you live in London?” Mr. S:”I do.” Me: “I see. That is cool, but it is grossly unfair that you live in London when men like me rot in Delhi.” Mr. S: “Hehe.”

Is amused after reading this mail from a reader of my blog: “Hello Mr Know it all, why don’t you spend your time coaching us since you are so disdainful of all of us. Who asked you to read junk anyways? Go and read the New York Times. It is better.” A minute later, another followed: “I also apologise for the typos. I did not proof-read what I sent you just to show you how bad we can get at typing.”

I gave the kiss hoping I am a poor learner. For once I wanted to be just that. Something I never ever wanted to be.

“He turned to her and said: “The maid who washes my clothes is never on time. It drives me insane.” “I’ll do it for you.”, she replied. He tried to smile, turning his face in vague discomfort.”

I am not sure I understood why people call me up to inform that my blog made them upset. I would rather prefer to debate the technical and stylistic imperfections of the piece. Teacher, Shanu called me Michelle!

It looks like my friends list has “dwindled”. But, I thought that a happening is a positive reality. And no reality could ever make Michelle Didi unhappy!

Ms. X: “When was the last time you were out on a date with a girl?” Me: “Why do you ask that? I’m sad.” Ms. X: “Why are you so negative? If you ever feel like it, we could go out! I thought it is funny that we both live in the same city, but have never met.” Me: “Suddenly feeling lonely? I think you got ditched!”

I do not know why people ask me to explain why I do not drink. Given how life-threatening such habits are, I think it is drunkards who are supposed to explain their lifestyle. Conscientious people live a far more disciplined life.

I just saw a girl walking around, with a T-Shirt labelled, “I am lost. Please take me with you, to home.”

Fondly remembers the Yahoo Messenger which was quite popular in my teens. I used to block the duds who would begin a conversation barking: “Sup dude?” or “ASL?” Now a days virtually no one talks in SMS language either. I think the web has evolved.

She: “You sound like Sheldon Cooper. He is a hypochondriac and a “germophobe”. Me: “I want to live longer. A disease is the only thing which can prevent me, on the probability scale, from having what I want.” She: “Look at it from another angle. I will be on that probability scale if you let me. Missing me makes you write. Me being around, eats into your productive hours, but not because I stops you, or lets you go.”

Is amused that an adolescent crush removed her “college info” from her profile after sensing that someone is stalking her. She does not want it to be known that she ended up in a ditch. After all, God will not be mocked.

Ms. X: “So, do you think that men in general earn more than women because of innate differences? Yes Or No?” Me: (Petrified) “Ummm….Well, I am afraid I have to say so.” Ms. X: “You are a sexist and a bigot, but you had fooled me into thinking otherwise. Now, I am going to block you, and tell everyone about this.”

A big problem I see with people is that when I am being polite, they think that I am mocking, and when I am being sarcastic, they think that I am merely being polite.

“Murray Rothbard can be brilliant, charming and very witty. But…but…he is not a man who can be trusted.”-A typical compliment.

Me: “I would like work with your Newspaper”. Mr. X: “We have a hiring freeze on now. On account of the weak economy I am told. But I shall forward this to the editors.” Me: “Thank you. I hope that your newspaper will need talented writers when the economy is “strong”. Mr. X: “Oh yes. We are always open to good people.” Me: “I am grateful to hear that. I think I am good.”

I am amused when I read arguments like more people have cell phones than the ones who have access to basic amenities. But, isn’t that enough proof that the market is awesome?

I wonder about the girls who whine every day about the weak character of some guy who ditched them on their Facebook walls.

“I have studied Economics for ten years before I became a newspaper journalist. Perhaps I am missing something, but I have never seen anyone using the word “impacted” in the sense Indian journalists use it. This is how the free dictionary defines it:

im·pact·ed (m-pktd)
adj.
1. Wedged together at the broken ends. Used of a fractured bone.
2. Placed in the alveolus in a manner prohibiting eruption into a normal position. Used of a tooth.
3. Wedged or packed in, so as to fill or block an organ or a passage.

So many people say that they want to live in a world where their stupid ideals would work. But, I would like to live in a world where people are angels. Why don’t people think that?

A letter I wrote today: Dear Miss X,

I owe you an apology. I am yet to tell the truth in a way it ought to be said. I do not know whether it is your frightening conscientiousness, or willful adherence to personal standards that impressed me. But, it does not matter. It is worse than a waste of time to rationally justify what I feel towards you. If expressed in three simple words, there is nothing more elegant than the truth. I do not know why I am still hesitating over it.

Warm Regards,

Shanu Athiparambath

The think-tank industry is mostly a signalling thing in Delhi. It is like running a fashion show in a tribal village. It is not going to work out.

After hearing libertarian arguments for over a decade, I am not interested in hearing them anymore. I am more interested in works that approaches the concept from a different angle.

I was telling a girl who studied in the Anglo Indian girls High School near my School: “I remember our History teacher saying: “I know why you boys are leaving so early, before the bell rings. To check out the Anglo Indian school girls in the bus stop.” Strangely, she turned out to be our History teacher’s daughter.

I want company, and not intimacy.

I am sorry. But, I can be really kiddish.

Loud people=Scary people.

These crummy people should have a separate compartment inside the metro.

I am feeling so bored. I should find someone to sleep with, from somewhere here.

The upside of having seen so many awful people is that even when I am not living up to my potential, I do not feel guilty at all.

A friend said: “Through your blog, you are not trying to make a particular point. What you write is often along these lines: “I said this to her, and then she said this to him….” But, what becomes evident is the absolute pettiness that emerges from the interactions of half-anglicized Indians inside an office.” I find this a very sharp observation, and a very obvious one.

I do not read emails when they are written as if they were written by a corporation– even when they say that they spent a half day reading my blog.

The greatest achievements of modern day art include advertisements.

What I do not understand about normal people is that they do not know that if they do wrong things, they deserve to be mistreated. When they are mistreated, they suddenly turn emotional and play the morality card.

The WordPress autocorrect for Arundhati is Undramatic.

The girl who wanted me to help her figure out something on the web was standing near the sofa for long in a way that my feet is pressed on her thigh.

A girl who works with an NGO for underprivileged children: “I am not feeling well today.” Me: “You won’t feel well, with all those lousy kids on your back.”

I think I will have to use all the people that I find interesting for my writing. And yet, I have to promise to them that I will not be doing that.

People who talk to me think that I just need a character for my writing. There is a broad classification-People who are simply not interesting enough, People who are malicious enough, and the four people I am attached to, and on whom I cannot do anthropological research with detachment.

One evening, Michelle would call me. What I heard was a silent cry. “You wrote it just to spoil me, isn’t it?.” I said, “Yes. But, there is not a single word in it that you can deny. What is published in your Magazine—It is their prerogative. What I write on my blog, it is mine. Even if the clotting in your father’s brain turns into hemorrhage, I do not care. We would rather debate the technical and stylistic imperfections of the piece? ” I soon hanged the call, and wrote on my Facebook wall: “Teacher, Shanu called me Michelle.” And then I remembered the day I shouted at the editors and walked out of the office. When I reached home, there was a deep pain in my chest. I had lost my keys, and my fingers were trembling.. I looked at the Calendar and smiled, because it was my last day there, and because it was the 24th of March.

“I wanted a soul mate, but you wanted to strike a deal. What if I tell you that the deal is simply not good enough for me? What now?”

A conversation between a neurotypical and an autistic. Neurotypical: “You are mocking the reader in a way, aren’t you? Never mind. “Autistic: “Why do you ask that? Give me an example. I want to know.” Neurotypical: “I cannot give an example. Forget it. I’m just deluded. Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you”
Autistic: “I am not hurt. What I want from you is the answer.”

Mr. X: “Has Miss Michelle’s husband read your blog?” Me: “I am sure that he has.” Mr. X: “Since you’ve survived, I guess he didn’t beat you up.” Me: “Getting beaten up is unlikely when I have this blog. I have poked fun at people who can hire stronger goons, but nothing happened to me, and my writing profited from these people.”

The World Bank’s news release says: “India is regaining economic momentum”. What is economic momentum? Perhaps what they mean is that India’s economy is regaining growth momentum? The lady who gave me the news release should be spanked and sent straight to the naughty corner.

In Steve Jobs’ biography, one associate of his says that he wanted to control everything, a desire to seek total control over the work he does. These are precisely the kind of people I would want to spit at. Petty, contemptible minds that cannot see anything beyond their insecurities and complexes.

I have no idea why people feel so much sympathy for a 17 year old who committed a crime. Why do people feel so sorry for criminals? I never understood that.

What I do not like about most libertarians is that they find some standard libertarian arguments very appealing, but they are not very curious about the world.

What I do not like about fiction is the sheer ugliness in most works, and the tendency of writers to write things that are nothing, but ugly.

Illiterates look at blogs and academic literature in a way not too unlike how savages look at human progress. With fear and envy, as if it is something bad.

People do not realize how easy it is to write non-fiction if you do not mind the prose being bland. You just have to be a well-read, clear-thinking guy—and type so many keys.

I don’t respect the views that I disagree with. Why would people respect the views that they consider wrong?

I am annoyed when I hear that Indian universities do not teach students to think on their own. What if another person can’t teach you how to think on your own? These people are duds.

I think the conventional notions of empathy are more of an ad hominem attack on clear thinking men.

I see writers advising aspiring writers to develop a passion. If they have to “develop” a passion, they probably do not have any to begin with.

When thinking through a problem, a rational person would always ask the following questions among many: “What are my premises? What is my conclusion? Are my premises true? If these premises are by no means obvious, did I reach them through the right means? Do the premises themselves lead to the conclusion? Am I smuggling in a hidden assumption? Is there a rationalization involved? Am I denying the obvious? Am I worthy of suspicion?” Even the fact that such questions exist do not occur to an insane person.

Great character is rarer than genius. Geniuses cannot help being that way. It is harder to have great character. Much of the behavior based and personality based analysis—They are just clueless.

When I read the updates of most people, I think: Stupidity is a very serious threat indeed.

People are not fair. When a smart man says that “People are so stupid”, he does not say it because he is prejudiced, but because their stupidity always surprises him.

I said, ” Trust in me. I’ll be with you.” Virgin Mary replied, “You sound very much like Jesus now.”

What I find amusing on Facebook is that women in their 50?s who are attracted to a writer use the same tactics that women in their 20?s use. Age does not make people any less kiddish. They are attracted to men in their age-range, of course. Update: She unfriended me.

I never understood the notion that narcissistic people are manipulative. Is there any reason to assume that these two traits go together? And what reason is there to assume that the other people are not manipulative?

Today, I found a classmate of mine in 1st standard on Facebook. I remember her standing on the back bench. Punishment.

Anjali Kumar: Write something that makes someone happy someday. Me: What I write makes myself very happy.

In an interview with a film maker, the interviewer asked: “I hear that you plagiarize a lot.” The film maker said, “These days people do not look at the virtues of an art form. When a movie is released, what they want to know is where I had plagiarized from. And then they search for the original version, and spread the information. I think they should divert their energies and intellect into more productive channels.”

It is amusing when you work with a funny editor who calls separate meetings for everyone because he fears that I will make him look good in front of the girls in the office. “But, Mr. Brilliant, you are wrong!” says me, and there goes one more article into the dustbin.

I saw a cute baby in the Supermarket. She was well-cushioned inside her winter clothes. She was too tiny, but old enough to walk around, touching things, looking at her father push the shopping trolley.

I clearly remember my initial experiences in chat rooms. The first meaningful conversation I had was with a ’16 year old girl’ based in the US. Later it turned out that it was a much older girl. I never felt so, as she had the mental development of a preteen.

Almost everyone agrees that the state should shell out more and more to make little Johnny read, to cure him of his illness, and to keep him clad and well fed. An overwhelming majority of intellectuals have held the same position as far as we can go back in history. The rest are a matter of superficial details.

I am reading some old conversations with an ex colleague. It was fun, though she was quite retarded. I talked to her in those days only because I had no option when bound by the four walls of the office. Beggars can not be choosers.

Once I picked up the ‘Times of India’ to see what news is like. In the front page of the newspaper, I could see Mahesh Bhatt expressing his opinion on the Lokpal Bill. He even said that he supports corruption.Parvin Dabas claimed that he slept with the producer. Then I could see a girl with a Tattoo, and a picture of Salma Hayek.

Prashanth Perumal: “Have you stopped reading about the controversy over climate change?” Me: “No. To stop reading about it , I have never read about it in the first place.”

“You can’t escape low IQ work.”, he said. I heard: “You can’t escape human depravity, kid!”

Till yesterday, I had an obnoxious lady in my list whose wall had a string of comments that said: “Awww. Who is this cutie pie?”, when all I can see is a stray puppy hauled out of the dust bin and is now in for adoption by some nitwits seeking new modes of amusement.

I am shocked to find a condom in my Shelf. My last room-mate was a Brahmachari doc. Pure virgin. So, it can not be his.

Someone gave me the brochure of an Astrologer when I went to Green Park market. I was enraged, and asked: “When can I check her out?” and walked away. They are so annoying.

An old acquaintance dragged me into an argument. He was speaking hysterically and incoherently, and as nearly as I can make out, it meant: “One doesn’t become a great writer simply by being capable of writing well. One becomes a great writer by writing the truth.” I understood what he was driving at.

When I say that scantily clad women provoke desire in men, it is not much different from saying that chocolates provoke desire in children. When did common sense go out of fashion?

I can not figure out why many do not appreciate the fact that I haven’t slapped them yet. Yes, yet.

I had a cup of Coffee, and had problems recalling how it tasted. While paying the bill, I said: “I don’t know whether it is Coffee or Tea. I don’t remember.”

A young writer’s Media communications head wanted me to review and plug her new novel. I was hesitant to stoop that low, but after checking out her pictures, I shyly said: “Yes.”

I love everything Bong: The language, music, names and of course, women.

I am having some disturbance in my throat for weeks, and I feared whether it is esophageal cancer. Then I rejected the possibility because 1) Being a saint, none of the risk factors apply to me. 2) The probability of a person of my age having it is close to zero even among such patients 3) It is such a rare form of cancer. But, I still have fear.

If modesty will take you far, the entire advertising industry will go out of business.

Me: I am thinking of concept of sanity and insanity. My near-complete sanity, and the insanity of the world around me. Prashanth Perumal : You have misplaced a few words in the above statement. Otherwise, I agree with you.

A friend was talking of a dude who is equanimous, has given up all desires and looks at other women as mothers. I told him that my problem is the reverse. I look at mothers as women and not the other way round.

“You can chose or decline to accept Jesus as your savior. If you don’t chose Jesus, you will go to Hell. If you chose Jesus all your sins (because we all sin and nobody can ever be perfect) are forgiven, and when you die you go to Heaven.”-A libertarian lady who happened to be writer told me last night!

I can see many guys who post updates claiming “Arabs are dangerous.”, and “Pakistani schools teach Hindu hatred.”, They occasionally wonder: “Can’t I even say that Muslims are terrorists?” and finally express their shock in being persecuted: “But, tell me how am I a Hindu fundamentalist? I am not sure I understood!”

A little child in the restaurant asked me: “What are you eating, uncle?” I said it is a South Indian dish, Curd rice. When she asked me, “Why are you eating this?”, her mother took her away.

While I was going down to get a cup of Tea, a woman called out to me from the stairs, and she was saying something even when I was walking out of the apartment. It was too dark in here, and I couldn’t see her face. It is pretty unnerving. She could be a prostitute.

My parents want me to find myself a partner and get a life. They are not bothered about her religion or anything for that matter. It all doesn’t matter one way or the other. I never knew that my parents had such a libertarian outlook.

I should pamper you. Hold you close to me, touch your little head.

I want to spank her, but I am embarrassed. She is not.

It is not possible to Facebook here without being harangued by the noisy blather of young liberated ladies who heap abuse on the Editor who butchered their masterpiece. Why can’t they shut up?

I saw two teenaged girls in a bakery asking: “Is there no chocolate here? Perk, Dairy Milk, nothing? What kind of a shop is this?”

Every morning, at 6:20, I see a plump girl walking around, with her cute puppy and a cane in her hand. It is scary!

“I think I have immense talent to say nothing at all in innumerable ways. Like what I have just said.”-Virgin Mary

Is in a state of tired amusement after taking two boys to the police station after they threw water balloons at me. It is a pretty raw deal when you deal with moral cannibals.

A puppy I saw in a boy’s hand today was the cutest thing I have ever seen. It had brown stripes and everything, with curious eyes that watched the outside world.

I do not know why I see many people who call marriage an institution and think of it as a barbarous relic. It is a contract, and it makes sense for most people to enter such a contract. Why is this complicated?

So many young writers that are cute.

Nehru and Gandhi were great men, idealists. But, they made mistakes. We grew up idolizing them. And when we became old and wise, we started seeing where they went wrong. But, Indira was a bitch. This is how most books on India’s economic history by our salt-and-pepper haired intelligent people are.

People should negatively judge my writing about them only if someone else could have done it better.

If I admit that your father has exquisite tastes and luck at the same time, would you wonder whether it is way too complimentary to you? Doublespeak as it is, it does make a lot of sense to wonder why I think it is both when we know that we are all hardwired. I am not talking of sexual mores alone.Think again, darling!

I love the place I live right now. I do not even have to lock the doors. In a house I lived before, I had to take my belongings with me whenever I went out to get a cup of coffee.

“Doesn’t the harlot know that she is letting herself in for every sort of risk, from societal contempt and childlessness to ostracism and disease?”

People who say awful things to me do not know that I am as saintly as the 16-th century catholic church priests, my socially unacceptable status updates notwithstanding!

An American lady asks after reading my wall posts: “Do they teach humility in India?” I said: “In India, humility is very important.” She: “Where did yours go?” Me: “Mine is accurate perception. You should talk to me, and then listen to an average guy for five minutes. It is hard to disagree.” She: “I don’t doubt you are bright.” Me: “That I know. My problem is that it is an understatement. I think arguments in favor of humility are bogus. But, one thing I normally do not hear in such debates is this: If you genuinely have a high opinion of yourself, you are likely to treat other people very tenderly, except when they have purposefully hurt you.” She: “Most ppl with a high IQ tend to treat others with little patience, kindness and humility. And almost always there is a touch of Aspergers.” Me: “That is because they have more clarity of thought. And because it is very hard to like the people who had harmed you.” She: “How do lower IQ people harm you?” Me: “They are so crazy.”

Isn’t it perverse that many who go all gooey over Mother’s day, are suddenly bending the stick the other way, claiming that we do not need a separate day to show our love?

I weep when I think of the hurtful words a religious person hurled at atheists last year: “Atleast I have something to celebrate this Christmas. Sorry fellas!”

After reading my article on Ayn Rand fanatics, one of them writes in: Hey, I unfriended you on Facebook, and I wouldn’t be writing this message if I had not drunk a full sparkling bottle of wine 5 minutes ago!

“My husband and I really liked your blog!”, says a typical comment on my blog. I think I should reply: “I agree that you both like me so much. But then, why don’t you ask him to send you to my room? It would be far more appreciated here.”

I liked the name Baby-Milk-Cake. So, I bought it!

You are closing your eyes and pretending the world to be dark. I am shutting my ears and screaming, “I do not understand what you mean.” We make a wonderful pair, and isn’t it the truth that we dare not admit to each other?

I am having a crush on Miryam Sivan. She is smart enough to see through me:”It must be because I read and write.”

One of my prized possessions is Nabokov’s Lolita. I love it not so much for the literary merit, as for its beautiful cover with a young girl’s legs in tiny socks and saddle shoes.

Bizzy Beaver: “Are you busy?” Me: “I am never busy. Busy people are either lazy or stupid or both.” Bizzy Bleaver: You have no work for a month, right? Me: “Yes.” Bizzy Bleaver: “So, do my homework for me!” Me: “Umm, well, No!”

They talk so much about economics and stuff, and at the end these guys quote Bible verses. It’s so ironic.-Prashanth Perumal

God, Uncyclopedia lists “The Virgin Mary” among famous people who were spanked on a daily basis!

“I like appreciating the truth. If I hear something in a lecture that I cannot quite agree with, I need to find out if I am right in not agreeing with it, and why. If I do not like someone, I would like to know why I feel that way, and if I am justified in feeling that way. I need to have my reasons in place.”-Virgin Mary

I am liking a Bengali mother who invited me to her home. She lives very close to my flat.

I was waiting for someone to come online to know whether today is a working day. But, these lazy North Indian people do not wake up before 10.The duds in the next room woke up just now. I hear some noise. I think good boys like me who wake up at 4 in the morning should be held up as a role model, as a symbol of frightening work ethic and teeth-clenched determination.

I do not know anyone who has a genuinely high opinion of prostitution, but I see many who are too sensitive to the concept. That reminds me of a movie scene in which one dude tells his servant that he loves dogs, and that he does not know why “Dog” is a swear word. The servant calls him just that, only to get slapped hard across his face.

I think I liked a movie dialogue: “To me, you are just a patient. But, there is no illness within you which cannot be cured by death.”

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