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Showing posts from August, 2016

Quote of the Week

"Why did she die?" said Miss Marple.
Elizabeth Temple stared at the peonies for some minutes. When she spoke she uttered one word. It echoed like the tone of a deep bell so much so that it was startling.
"Love!" she said.
Miss Marple queried the word sharply.
"Love?"
"One of the most frightening words there is in the world," said Elizabeth Temple.
Again her voice was bitter and tragic.
"Love..."

-- Agatha Christie | Nemesis

Prinsep's Ghat

September 1819. A ship moored at the most popular harbour on the bank of the River Hooghly near the Water Gate of Fort William – the fortress of the East India Company. A twenty years old British gentleman's feet touched the earth of the country for the very first time that was going to be his home for the next twenty years until the day he would be sent back to his motherland due to poor health. Born and brought up in Bristol, he came from a good family but with a dwindling fortune. There was a time when he even had to share the only pair of breeches with his younger brother. His poor eyesight made him give up a career in architecture and eventually he was offered a job at the Bengal Mint. Here his interest in coinage and numismatics was born which would later lead to his decipherment of Brahmi and Kharosthi scripts of ancient India. He was James Prinsep – one of those British gentlemen whom India would be forever indebted to for his invaluable contribution to the Indian Studies…

Quote of the Week

It was miserable, wet-bone March and I was lying in bed thinking about killing myself, a hobby of mine. Indulgent afternoon daydreaming: A shotgun, my mouth, a bang and my head jerking once, twice, blood on the wall. Splatter, splatter. "Did she want to be buried or cremated?" people would ask. "Who should come to the funeral?" And no one would know. The people, whoever they were, would just look at each other's shoes or shoulders until the silence settled in and then someone would put on a pot of coffee, briskly and with a fair amount of clatter. Coffee goes great with sudden death.

-- Gillian Flynn | Dark Places

20 Random Facts about Me

This week it has been a lull for me in blogging. I don't know why I feel so lazy and vapid at times. This fluctuating tendency of mine worries me a lot sometimes. It is like I am so unpredictable and volatile that even I don't know what I might do next. So anyway, I thought this random facts post might break the monotony. I enjoy reading random facts about people a lot. So why not me?

1.I am a Slytherin (so does the Sorting Ceremony on Pottermore say). And that explains my nature in one word.
2.I used to be a size 12 during my entire under-graduation and post-graduation years. Now I am a 4.
3.I love anything that comes in the shade of turquoise blue.
4.I have anxiety disorder. Simple thing escalates in my head at the speed of light. And before I know it, I am the unhappiest person in the world.
5.The steadiest relationship I have had in my life is with my second and current laptop. 5 years and counting. *touchwood*
6.I have OCD. I open any kind of packaging at the certain prescribed…

Quote of the Week

"Winter. No one likes winter."
"It gets dark early, I like that."
"Why?"
Because that means the day has ended. I like checking days off a calender -- 151 days crossed and nothing truly horrible has happened. 152 and the world isn't ruined. 153 and I haven't destroyed anyone. 154 and no one really hates me. Sometimes I think I won't ever feel safe until I can count my last days on one hand. Three more days to get through until I don't have to worry about life anymore.

- Gillian Flynn | Sharp Objects

The Steak Factory

I should begin with a confession. I actually visited this place exactly two months back. I have been meaning to write a post about it but then there goes the same, old story of postponement and procrastination. Then there were at least 40 photographs of the place including the food and I had to sort the best ones. This is the problem of having a camera phone. The moment there is something remotely photogenic (or not) an impulse arises, then the finger goes berserk and before you knew it you end up having twenty something shots of a glass of overpriced, fancy soda water on your phone, taken from various angles.

So it was a hot and humid June afternoon we decided to pay a visit to this place that I had heard about a year back but never had a chance to visit since. The Steak Factory is a very small diner solely dedicated to the carnivorous clan of gluttons. People call it a restaurant but the whole place basically consists of two small adjoining rooms on the ground floor of an old south…

Happy Birthday Bucky Barnes

Happy birthday to the man who turned 34 today, but actually has the soul of an eight years old. We are with you 'till the end of the line Seb! And please please never date a bimbo popstar.

Three Books and One Man

Last month I promised myself that I would start reading at least 3 books in a month. I wanted to make it 5, but who am I kidding? The few bloggers I follow regularly (one in particular) are such ardent bibliophile that my hopeless procrastinating nature becomes more evident when I read their book reviews. I mentioned earlier that I had finished reading The Cuckoo’s Calling and was halfway through The Silkworm. Upon finishing The Silkworm I plunged headfirst into Career of Evil, the third and the latest Cormoran Strike book by Robert Galbraith.


Murders get gorier with each adventure (?) of Strike and his partner Robin. The Cuckoo’s Calling is about the mysterious death of a model that fell from the balcony of her apartment. The Silkworm unravels the mystery behind the arcane ritualistic murder of a writer – medieval, gory and bizarre. Career of Evil is all about cat and mouse chase between Strike and his nemesis, an unknown psychopath serial killer who has chosen a strangely violent w…

Quote of the Week

‘I stopped loving you.’ ‘Why?’ ‘You stopped loving me. We’re a sick, fucking toxic Mobius strip, Amy. We weren’t ourselves when we fell in love, and when we became ourselves – surprise! – we were poison. We complete each other in the nastiest, ugliest possible way. You don’t really love me, Amy. You don’t even like me. Divorce me. Divorce me, and let’s try to be happy.’
‘I won’t divorce you, Nick. I won’t. And I swear to you, if you try to leave, I will devote my life to making your life as awful as I can. And you know I can make it awful.’

- Gillian Flynn | Gone Girl

Snippets of Last Week

Initially the plan was to watch the puppet show. The glimpse of the colourful banner had caught my attention on my way to office. With no good movie running coupled with the dull face of the monsoon sky getting on the nerves the idea of trying something new had seemed really good. There is no way I would ever go watch a theatre or a literary discussion. I mean, my bed is comfortable enough to waste time and feel bored. So a puppet show sounded good -- fun and unusual yet not insufferably intellectual and stuffy.
So there we were, at the Aikyatan complex on a rainy Sunday afternoon. But to our utter disappointment, we found the show was closed for the day. Dark stage. Empty seats. The large banner announcing proudly of the tamasha that was supposed to take place in there.
A small Bengal special textile exhibition was going on adjacent to the Puppet show. So we roamed about there for a while and then headed straight for the nearest mall to have some coffee.