blocks of tree sap and pigment - I

I haven't ever written a review of any book. I'm not much into reading for that matter. I hardly glance through my own god forsaken text books if I ever buy them. I seldom get/install a reader or unzip the e-books I ever download. But there are still a few novels I read, by the brilliance of fate. I've read the sherlock holmes, The harry potter, and lately started with The Fountain Head, after a friend referred to it.

The last one by Ayn Rand apparently prompted this post but one should realise that it contributes so little in this plea or cry whatever you would like te call it. Any how we will see about it later.

The first novel I ever read was The dead man's doller, an e-book on digit/chip CD It's just a string of incidents and the authers imagination. There is nothing I see in that work to talk about.

But then comes The great Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I read through the three volumes of it and it would be pure injustice if I don't mention How much I enjoyed that time. I should accept that the book merely allowed me to use it for the purpose I intended it for, to pass time.

What it really lacks is the originality of the work. Mind you, I'm not saying that it is copied or something. But the auther, 'sir' Arthur Canon Doyle, hyped too much. Through out the entire three volumes it's always the same monotony. It starts with seemingly innocent details. I had the feeling that the auther purposefully hides the details to demonstrate that we can't understand the details as good as Mr.Holmes. Then Mr.Holmes, with all his (un)natural talent lables them grotesque and start after them. Then with his ingenious techniques finds great many details of the case. The auther, with all his brilliant literary talents, always avoids the actual techniques , if there are any, very successfully. It appears to me as a big hoax.

There has been a long gap on my blog. So I decided to put up this incomplete post. I'll complete it the next time I find time.

New Bike :->

Yeppie!! I got a new bike. Bought Hero Honda Ambition 133. Yeah, I know there is a new 135 in the market. Thats why I got the bike onto road(Including trivial expances like tips to the boy and stuff) at a price of Rs.45,750. a whole 6k less.

Dad says I can't take it to hyderabad or college. I'll worry about that later. I'm planning to take it t hyd next summer when I do my internship and GRE coaching. Then may be dad will get confidence and let me take it to college too. who knows?

If you are still wondering about what happened to all my nasty mood a couple of weeks ealier, I had snapped out of it quite a little while back. Some one who really matters told the magic words. I don't know weather they really means it or not, but they did say it, even if accidentally or if its a slip off. Now I'm happy.(not so much ofcourse).

Nostolgia

Well, I was just flipping my favourite blogs and a moth there reminded me of my school days.

Once our biolagy teacher was teaching us about insect kingdom(or something else, I don't remember.) and told us that moths would rest with their wings open but Butterflies with them closed. However it contradicted with my imaginationn of butter flies with their wings open and colourful, beautifully resting on the petals of flower. I was too egoistic to believe that my dreams aren't anywhere near truth. So I wanted to prove it otherwise. I flipped through the books and found our physics text with a pic of butterfly with wings open. It was used there to illustrate properties of light. I pulled it out in the next class and tried to prove that our teacher is wrong. But, she would refuse to listen saying it was a Physics text and she doesn't care about what it says or shows. So I got so frustrated that I threw the book on the bench and shouted, "If you aren't gonna listen to me, neither am I." Saying so I walked out of the class and went to library.

I was arrogant, but I had my point right? More over I always used to be the topper and she wouldn't do anything to me. My school is a good one where teacher can't lay a finger on a kid. It's nomore the same. I'm one of the lowest rankers in the college and good for nothing. If I do anything so much as taking stand against a prof, I'm done for.

broken trust

Lately there seems to be nothing but frustration here. But all that put together is nothing much to me because I don't care about any of that crap. It's just that I feel like writing all those grievances and rantings of mine and what would be a better place than blog!

Lately i found myself underperforming in the exams. That's nothing to fret about because Its out of my own choice to explore a world I like. But I just discovered there is worse to come.

How do you feel when trust is broken? Awful!!? I don't know clearly what I'm feeling right now. I'm in no position to think. I wonder how I'm writing this long when I can't even string two words together. Even my hands refuse to type in. I can't feel the music blowing the roof off. The coach feels so uneasy, I wonder how I sat and worked all these days. I'm out of the realms of the time domain. I don't know how long I've sat here staring at the screen thinking how to start. Anyone would have lost count of the errors I'm committing and all those random phrases I deleted which made their way onto the post even without my concsious. I feel strange tingling in my stomach. May be thats what they refer to as 'insides churning'.

How would it be if you were to realise that all the while you put your belief in something that never existed. Now I think I know how King Arthur would have felt when he just realised that his Rome never Existed except in his own head.

Love...I wonder how everything seems to be so perfect but not quite right. Don't get carried away because this is not another of those silly college campus affairs or innocent enough infatuations. What I'm talking about here is about Love and not anything in particular. All I ever believed in is Love. And now I'm supposed to discover that feelings are almost never mutual. I believed in Love as much as I believed in my self. Now that my faith is broken, all was left with is my self. Fatally struck like never before, I can't even cry. That's what I do generally, but my eyes are drained already, I've been crying all the time I'm alone.Every moment seems to be so long. But it's all floating away so fast.........

With all these thoughts filling up my mind, purposeless, like poisoned needle slowly and delicately making my head, heavier than lead,I can't write anything more. With every thought, the thread is lost. I don't find solitude in words anymore. I wonder weather I'm existing still or gone for the good. So that's it chaps, more if I ever make it back.