KhepiAri

(My net problem is still going on, hence I am Virtually cut off Virtual world. Do not ask how mother’s day was. Last year she found the gift before time as you had read.  So this year I was careful to be more far sighted. Hence she woke up, had her morning walk still did not notice her gift waiting on her dressing table. Fate had to always twist it. My exam are nearing and this time I am serious so will upload articles and more new stuff after 14 th June) {Here is a small drabble that was going in mind for a while. Just random thoughts and questions no answer found yet…..} As in much previous post I have been skeptical about feelings. Few days back when I was reading Murakami, I felt most of the novels deal with love. Love of all kind, not only novels, movies, anime, cartoons, songs everything and anything for once has love as the theme. Keats had his own love, Sylvia Plath had sad love for dark within, Othello had jealousy created of love, Browning dealt with the ...

The word ‘marriage’ seriously needs some discussion with today’s youth. Another batch mate of mine eloped and got married few days back. I as good friend did what I do best ‘yell’ at her. I shouted at her for being so reckless and stupid just when exams are digging over grave. Our semester finals are a week away and this young lady eloped. When I was small I use to think marriage was what parents decide for you as you grow up. After sometime I realized there was more to it.  There was so called Love marriage and Arrange marriage. Arrange marriage rules in our family mostly, occasional love marriages have taken place too. My free spirited sister to gladly had arranged marriage.  But when I joined my beloved school BGR vid, we found many folds to “simple Arrange marriage” and “simple Love marriage”. Now I am utterly disappointed with both.  I seriously think this institution needs many guidelines for the eloping love struck creatures. My batch mate, let’s call h...

This post might sound repetitive and my anger may look futile. Still I will write and vent out my anger. A few days back after my beloved cell phone returned from care shop, I decided to check in my watsapp and change the display picture. So I put a picture of my short legs in my red kitten heel peep toe.   The picture had no hidden motive but a decision out of my random nature. Honestly I love my small short toned legs and I love those kitten heel. These are the only shoes I have ever bought with my own pocket money. I simply love the pair. My walking mate thought that these were new pair but they are four year old. Off course she   loved the shoes she is a girl too. But a certain someone of my acquaintance is on watsapp too. This certain someone had been sent a picture of my beloved Goldie. Instead replying about Goldie I got a question followed by a statement. I was asked if my picture was an erotic sensual display of skin. I got a suggestion from them that, I sho...

In life we come across people who tend to have an obsession with death and they take pride in their final days. We have had the baroque culture putting its own influences. In teenagers we find that tendency to go for the darker side. Death often becomes the symbol to end suffering, end all the worldly problems. Again death becomes a symbol of revolution, symbol of heartbreak, symbol of end.   Death is all and the ultimate truth of life. If you are born you must die.   Well I am not death loving person, I am all for life. One day I have to face my end so I won’t worry about it till then. Few days back I saw the film The Fountain, where we find Jackman in three different time zones searching a way to escape the gift of mortality. We find him stating that Death is a disease and there is a cure. I too had an idea sprouting in my mind many times, what if death was an ailment. I have my concepts of creation too, will pen down those thoughts one day.   Let’s go b...

First of all I beg for your forgiveness, I am really sorry for not deserting my dearest blog for a whole month. I was not suffering from writers block rather the lazy-bum syndrome. To put it in a simple way I did not have any new misadventure, twisted tales or any important event to pen down with. I would have written something, but my internet connection has been testing my patience for a long time. That was not all, my cell phone had conspired with my modem too. Right now I am sitting in a cyber café and typing. I would like to share what I gained and missed this month without my 24/7 net connection and cell phone. Missed. 1.        Every night   I had been watching my favorite anime Bleach online. It was   three episode per night. Now if I calculate it, I missed watching two seasons. 2.          I missed all the news around the world. Yes we do subscribe newspaper and we have television...

Being the second child always had its advantage, being second girl child was a bliss. I was raised up  by the  strict yet friendliest mother. But being born as a girl was not easy. I did not face discrimination at home nor did I grow as a delicate flower. I grew up, playing with dolls, I was in love with pink, pretty and cute. May be that was the fate I was destined to have. I had girl best-friends, I was growing ignorant and prejudiced. This attitude of mine turned around when I was in fifth grade, when few boys were disturbing us. They called girls "weaaaak!!" and it hit a cord in my brain. I was already a bulky child and had good energy I challenged one of the boys for Arm wrestling, I defeated him. It was after this incident, and few other discrimination faced in school and other places that slowly pink started to whether away from my closet. I happily chose the Armour of being a boy. I claimed I was a boy, the one who ca...

On 14th of this month one of my wildest dream came true, yet I didn't feel happy the way I should. The dream was to have my photograph appear in newspaper. This twist of fate happened in an Assamese Daily but I failed to get the thrill when I bought my copy. On 10th March, late morning my door bell rang, there was this romantic junior of mine. He came without a warning and very next moment we were in my room downstairs. I knew he was approached by our Philosophy Professor to write out something for the Assamese daily. He had to write it out with five other people from Pink College. So this was a Pink College project and I wanted to stay away. But junior Poet is a boy of enthusiasm and madness. So unwillingly I became handcuffed to this young man's madness. So our whole afternoon was spent writing and dialing the number of the confused Sub-editor. With every moment passing we realised that the topic was unclear and really out of our reach. First we were given...