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Showing posts from September, 2016

Quote of the Week

She raised her arms passionately. "I hate God for making him die."
She stopped then, and looked at him doubtfully. "I shouldn't have said that - that I hated God."
He said calmly, "It's much better to hate God than to hate your fellow-men. You can't hurt God."
"No. But he can hurt you."
"Oh no, my dear. We hurt each other, and hurt ourselves."
"And make God our scapegoat?"
"That is what He has always been. He bears our burdens - the burden of our revolts, of our hates, yes, and of our love."- Agatha Christie | The Burden

Currently Doing..

Counting the days:

Yes. It is all here. The subtle change in the air. The sudden rush of cool breeze brushing past that drop of sweat trickling down the collarbone. The cotton ball clouds. The sun is looking one shade brighter, and so is the sky. The bamboo barricades, the hoardings, the lights. It’s time for Her to visit us again – along with the whole Team. Pujo is less than a month away. We no longer feel the ‘himer porosh’ in mid-September, thanks to the screwed up pattern of climate. We have no chilly autumn here, only humid summer. But the smell of Pujo is unmistakable in the air.
Indulging:

In the luxury of ayurveda. Of all the Kama ayurveda products I have started using this one is my absolute favourite. I love the pungent aroma of herbs soaking through my skin after every shower. In my very busy daily schedule of self-loathing I enjoy this 5 minutes of pure bliss of mollycoddling myself.
Reading:

Hyperbole and Half. This is not exactly a new blog, not a running one either – the la…

Ijeoma Umebinyuo

Quote of the Week

“Some humans would do anything to see if it was possible to do it. If you put a large switch in some cave somewhere, with a sign on it saying ‘End-of-the-World Switch. PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH’, the paint wouldn’t even have time to dry.”


—Terry Pratchett | Thief Of Time

Twilight

Fatigued

Lately I’m not feeling the urge to write anything. Or rather, nothing is coming into my mind. No idea is popping up. If one reason is my work pressure (the entire month of August has been an ordeal) and a sense of premonition regarding an upcoming change in the work front, then the other must be the fact that I barely go out these days. My life has become the literal rendition of a straight line with two extreme points – home and work. Suddenly I have discovered this new side of me – this absolutely lonely, companionless side. I guess this is what happens to those who don’t get along with most and lose the ones they actually like as well. Suits me.
I am at my despondent best when I feel this hollow in my head. Whatever I write usually comes to me when I’m being quiet and pensive, which happens to be most of the time. This happens even when I’m working (where no brain is required, so it can have all the fun of its own). I begin to have deep conversations with myself inside my head, th…

Quote of the Week

“There were times when John Wade wanted to open up Kathy’s belly and crawl inside and stay there forever. He wanted to swim through her blood and climb up and down her spine and drink from her ovaries and press his guns against the firm red muscle of her heart.”

—Tim O’Brien | In The Lake Of The Woods

The Girl Who Chose the Dark Side

I first started reading Gone Girl back in 2013. I had read about 200 pages then I had to stop. My just-bruised mind could not take the unsettling tone of the book. Isn’t love supposed to have a happy ending? A happily ever after. Isn’t that what marriage means? Gone Girl offered nothing to slather healing lotion over my mutilated faith. So I had stopped.
Cut to 2016. Four years have passed. My life did not change much, but one, just one but a big change has happened. The psycho fuck virus is out of my living, breathing existence. It no longer lives in my mind rent-free. So I started reading the book again. Picked up where I had left it. This time it did not bother me that much – the dark, morbid nature of the story. Perhaps it was so because I’m not so lonely anymore. It is difficult to breathe in the fictitious world of darkness and melancholy with so much suffocating loneliness in reality. One must have someone to vent it all out. Kind of like a periodical reassurance. Will you give …

Word.

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