Confession: I don’t know since how many years among many other stuff has been lying in such orderly fashion my house, I’ve never even touched it.
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Author Archives: The Nameless One
A recipe of disaster with a pinch of me
Okay, something like that. I’m not feeling much creative now (nor do I cook per say) to cook up a recipe of myself so this is the best I can come up with:
MAIN DISH:
3 c. extroversion
6 oz. organic wit (non-homogenized)
4 heaping tbsp. unforeseeableness
5 Linkin Park records, finely chopped
2 nights insomias
Dozen love for drama and thrills
3 fl. oz. analysis addiction
2 dashes Batman & others
Pinch of video games over-analysis
Olive oil to taste
TO GARNISH:
10 crooked fingers
2 wandering eyes
2 bushes wavy-curly hair behind and in-front (of the head that is)
INSTRUCTIONS:
Combine all ingredients on a bed with an Alienware boiling down. Do not add anything sweet. Stir until just combined. Let ferment for some weeks, until appropriately funky.
Serve with a grain of salt. May weep if exposed to too much heat.
21 Pictures That Will Restore Your Faith In Humanity
Europe? Hot Girlfriend? Job at Google?
You hit the 20 mark — you know the beginning of the dark ages when you start saying no to ‘come on dude, one more shot’ and guzzle down a litre of water instead in a last ditch attempt to appear less corpse-like at work the next morning — and overnight, it feels like things that were floating around in your peripheral vision, rise up like pernicious ghosts to smack you in the face. Apart from the usual philosophical quandaries like ‘Who am I? What have I been put on this planet for and where do I go from here?’, there are the less intellectually stimulating but equally bothersome questions like ‘Am I in the right job?’ ‘Everyone is travelling including that dumbass who thought Spain was in Africa. Should I go too?’ ‘She’s fatter than me and she has a boyfriend! What’s wrong with me?’
They say growing up after…
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Weekly Photo Challenge: Fresh
Fresh chicken sandwich. Yum!
Yo, Dear Sir!
Choosing salutation phrases, or closing ones for that matter, can be tricky with changing times. While the latter is relatively simpler which just requires bit understanding in knowing the differences, the former can raise several questions to the mind. Is it alright? Does it sound respectable or not? Too formal/informal than required?
Moreover, today social media and other forms of instant communication getting over e-mails, which in turn took over ‘real’ letters, it adds more to the tension. While adding “Dear…” is usually the first and safest strategy, it might always be the best one or even required. In my case, I know the world is too complicated for a single strategy. It depends who I’m writing to.
Why night owls are cleverer and richer than people who rise early
This is a research from 2009 which I came across today via a friend.
It has long been held that the early bird catches the worm. But it is the night owl that lasts the distance, research shows.
It found that late risers tire less quickly than those who make a point of getting up at the crack of dawn.
The study is likely to be embraced by anyone tired of being branded lazy for their love of a lie-in.
Well, being a person of the night myself, I like to associate myself more with bats than owls. Yes, you know now, I’m Batman.
Back to School
I’m not sure, I need to stop time itself and master few stuff 😛
A Friend in Need
YENNA RASCALLA!
Yes, you who revel in South Indian stereotypes. You who believe that we ‘Madrasis’ actually say ‘Yenna Rascalla’ out loud.
Read, and learn.
1. Geography: ‘South’ is a direction; Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh, Kerala and Tamil Nadu are states. Hubli is in Karnataka, Hooghly in Paschimbanga. Tirupati, Tirunelveli and Thiruvananthapuram are not baaju baaju mein. And Sri Lanka is more than a paddle-boat ride away.
2. Languages: ‘Andu-Gundu-Naaru-Gundu’ may have profound meaning in modern Haryanvi, but is gibberish in Kannada, Telugu, Malayalam, Tamil and Tulu. ‘South Indian’ is not a language – Tamilians will comprehend Telugu the day Mamtadidi spouts Gujarati. It kills me when you blurt out ‘Illay Illay Po’, and howl, as though what translates to ‘No No Go’ is somehow tremendously funny.
3. Pronunciations: Do not attempt to sing the Malayalam lines from ‘Jiya Jale’. Notice how even Lata Mangeshkar didn’t? Touch the tip…
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The Nameless One 