Tim

Now.. don't let your imagination work overtime. I know exactly what you must be wondering right now.. What is this story about? Who's Tim? A boy who lost his mother? A guy who lost his girlfriend? A teen who refuses to give up his booze and dope? Strike. Strike. Strike. Its about none of these. Tim is the story about a cursor boy (mouse cursor, chyeah). And so.. let it begin..


Tim was not at all used to all this. He was disappearing from the monitor screen. He didn't want this to happen at all! No! No! No! How could..!?!
Before all this.. Tim was a happy cursor residing in some body's monitor screen.. happily as ever! But to his despair, Tim was tail-less. He didn't have a tail and the other cursors made fun of him, teased him and mimicked him to death (he didn't die though, not as yet!). Anyway, so he was sad, depressed and broken hearted. The female cursor he loved the most in the whole world was getting married to another cursor who had a long pointed tail just because her father refused to let her get married with a tail-less and ugly cursor. Yes, he used those words. Tim was so sad that he went wandering about the screen all alone and then he didn't know what happened but he clicked on something that he started disappearing.. slowly.. and in a split second he was in a different land. He looked around and saw all amazing sights. He saw several tail-less cursors, just like himself. He saw everything happy, smelt everything yummy and heard a joyful music playing. Before he could enjoy such a view he realized that he was disappearing again. No! NO! This can't happen, he thought. He wanted to stay there.. Anyway, the next place he came to was a factory of some kind.. He saw cursors of all kinds, cute icons, custom templates, websites being churned and everything else! He was so amazed that he forgot all about his home.
"Excuse me, mister" said somebody and tapped on his shoulder. Tim turned and saw that it was an icon.
"Yes?" replied our Tim.
"Welcome to The Factory!" he shouted.
"Oh. Nice place, this.." Timmy replied.
"Yes, sir! Have a nice stay." he said and left.
Now, our Timmy was in awe of this place as it gave him the happiness he never got earlier. He was happy. He was there for a year and everybody was friendly, happy, jolly, cheerful all the time. However, even after denying he couldn't but miss his dear home. Whatever it was.. it was his home. He missed Tricia (his love interest.. remember?) too. When one day it was too much to take. He asked one of his friends to tell him the way to return to his old monitor screen once again. He told him the way and so Tim packed his bags and was ready for the big journey. He reached his monitor screen in 5 days' time and as everybody else was sleeping, he went to sleep too. Shrieks woke him in the morning and guess what? Everybody was happy to see him. They missed him. They couldn't turn their backs to the fact the Tim was a necessary part of their daily lives.. he was like the air they breathed.. necessary but seldom noticed. They asked for pardon and asked him never to leave them again. Tricia's father had cancelled her wedding with the big hulky cursor dude after he got to know that he had a transplanted tail. Having no tail is better than a fake one, he said that. And now, he declared that the only cursor fit to marry his beautiful Tricia was Tim. So, everybody started preparations for the big wedding and it was a huge event with everybody there. Good ol' Tim even invited his friends from the other land. Everybody congratulated them. They danced. They sang. They were happy. And as all good stories end.. They lived happily ever after.
And now Tricia and Tim live on my monitor screen. They have two kids. A boy and a girl i.e. Jr. Tim and Tia.
Tricia and Tim are one contented couple.. and may they live happily together!

Yay!

Yay! How's this? The template, ofcourse.. fool! Comments, shouts.. why are all of you sooo lazy? *sniffle* *sniffle*


Toodles.

Am I an addict?

Ahh.. Another Hitchhiker's thingy.. The name of a poem written (according to the book) long ago was..
"Ode to the green putty I found in my armpit one midsummer morning"


Sheesh. IMAGINE!

Let go..

Boredom leads you to another thing.. writing poetry/songs and so I wrote one. It isn't for someone special or something.. just a plain, harmless song written by the original me.


Walkin' on the burnin' streets
when the sun was shining down on our heads..
We were together, suffering in the same heat
until we met..

Our eyes started giving away
What we didn't want to say
but in the end this is what I want to convey

that I miss you and I want you back
oh! those days were so full of life
and now I feel like I am torn apart
please come back oh.. come back.

Laughing at nothing is not as fun as it used to be
The birds, the sky, the trees hold no meaning for me
the sunlight seems as cold as I am inside
the decision I took to let you go.. was never right.

Ohh.. the words slowly tumbled out of our lips
those words were forbidden, we never knew..
until it came to this.

Ohh.. I miss you and I want you home
come on lets go..
and now I feel like I am breaking inside..
the decision I took to let you go was.. never.. right..!

*Applaud*
*Curtain closes*
Thank you. Thank you.

Me + My fickly wickly mind = Constant change

Ahh.. ever since I had joined blogspot, I couldn't waittt to create/edit the templates and now (*wicked smile* muahahahahaha) I KNOW HOW TO DO IT! The outcome? You're probably going to see a lot of change in my templates, colour combos blah blah.. you know what i mean? Yeah. Soo.. How's my new template? I want comments or shouts! Wootzerz. *thinks to herself* How about a black and white template the next time.. next week? Tomorrow? Umm.. or else a combination of orange and red!!!!! Okay.. STOP STOP! *normal mode*
So bye for now.
Happy Diwali.
Do not burn crackers for the sake of those who died in the blasts last year.. or for the sake of those who suffer from respiratory diseases.. or for the sake of those who work tirelessly.. without wages for days at stretch, producing these destructive crackers for you.. for what? yes!! burning them.. and burning them why? to see the amazing lights..!!! yessss.. How amazing.. isn't it? Think over it.. How about if I make you study for 17 hours tomorrow.. no food.. no water.. and oh!.. not for one day.. for a year! And then you fail in your examinations.. How would you feel? Insensitive twits are those who burn crackers even after reading this.

My crush(es)!!

Now, after posting these pictures.. do I need to say anything else? Zach Efron and Daniel Radcliffe. Heart Heart. Yesss! Cutest guys on the planet Earth.. with no exceptions, whatsoever. Yippee. Whoopie. Hehe.
As far as this post is concerned.. my target is 99 posts.. so workin' a bit hard. Watchin' The Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy on the television (star movies).. Yippeeeee! For those who missed.. 6:50 on Star Movies.. Yahhhhhooooo.
So long and Thanks for all the fish.
Heart Heart.

Worst one, ever.

Vogon poetry.. Do I need to say more? For those who've read The Hitchhikers .. you'll know. :P.



Oh freddled gruntbuggly..?
thy micturations are to me/ As plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee.
Groop, I implore thee my foontime turlingdromes.

And booptiously drangle me with crinkly
bindlewurdles,/ or I will rend thee in gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon, see if I don't!

The End.
& So long and thanks for all the fish. ;]

Aww.

Invitation

Aloha! So.. this is where blogspot leads me to.. Now I have to beg.. arr.. correction.. invite my friends to join blogspot.. sheesh.. I know how hard it is.. Why wont you guys join it? Its so much fun over here. Weeeeeeee! Look at me?
And look at these people.. blogspot changed their lives.. for ever! :

1. "Hi! I am Gina. I joined blogspot.. and my husband (now) saw the posts and was impressed and we got married the next day!! We are living happily since 5 days."
2. "Hello. I am George. I posted on blogspot and met Steven Spielberg (he contacted me himself after reading my post on a movie!). We are currently working on a venture.. named ET Returns. I am the new Et!"
3. "Aloha. I am Brianna. I got a modelling assignment to work on after I posted my resume on blogspot! We get to wear and eat fruits at the same time!"


P.S-: As some of you have already guessed.. this is another useless attempt to get my friends to join blogspot.. *sigh*
And just for the heck of it.. the above article is a hoax (though you can't quite call it an article..)!

Sui Generis

Well.. ever since I began blogging on this one, questions have been coming up and each one of them is the same.. (different languages, ofcourse!)
Whats the meaning of sui generis..?
Sui generis ka meaning kya hai?
¿Cuál es el significado de sui generis? (eeks, spanish.. joking!)
Anyway,
I, Disha, declare in public that the meaning of Sui Generis is.. something unique or special. (for my blog, dumbo!)
[As for those who didn't care to go through the dictionary.. too bad!]
Um. So I end here? Toodles.

Boredom makes you do crazy stuff..

So yeah.. I am like majorly bored right now.. What could be worse than talking to Vasudha who tries to crack jokes which do not seem funny AT ALL!.. Well.. seems like there is some one else too apart from me who shares the same habit, then.
I didn't study at all today! And mom just went out somewhere for the whole day (Freedom! Liberty! Enfranchisement!).. So I was just wondering what to do till 6 pm after which I'll go outside to play (walk, rather or whatever!). Hmm..




And so she gets back to chatting with Vasudha as it seems the most sane thing to do at this point of time...

Apologies from your imperfect daughter..

You bite your nails furiously... well perhaps just curious or just for the heck of it but yes, you are worried and you can't deny that. Nevertheless, you are showing signs of being tensed. Being a perfectionist, you would've cared about this on any other occasion which was not something like this. You are waiting for the results of your twentieth job interview for the day. You are tired of the endless questions that ask you to explain 'why you want to take up that job' or 'why you want to work for that company'.. but even then, you remind yourself of the promise you made according to which you would go through all the ordeals, through whatever it took, to make your loved ones happy. It said, in loud tones that you had to fight your heart's innate desire of being a true artist which is your inborn talent and go along with your parents' decision i.e. a proper job for you.

"You cannot afford to bring up your kids in future by merely painting on useless canvases! It’s useless and unnecessary. For a girl with convent education and good morals and values, you ought to get a job as soon as you apply for it!!" These were the words your father had used. You had gone ahead with the idea. No arguments. No heated discussions. You had said to yourself that your contradictory arguments wouldn't have helped anyway. You had to do what they said. But now, as you recline on the red leather sofa, you retrospect the evening and think that maybe you should have answered back, maybe you should have told them how it felt. But anyway, you force yourself back into present.. whats gone is gone.. and here you are in the present... stuck with 'convent education' and 'good morals and values' to guide you on your way. You get up; glad to get no answer again. You had waited long enough. Maybe now when you reach home, you can convince them?

But a lady in starched uniform and pointed stilettos comes up, armed with a fake smile and informs you that you have been selected. You return that artificial smile, give her your details and move out of the office. Thereafter, you step out of the office and breathe. It’s not the kind of breath you take just so that the oxygen can reach your lungs and our heart can begin its double circulation. It’s the kind of breath in which you can smell freedom cuddling you in it's arms and gifting you confidence and self respect. You don’t know why, but you suddenly feel happy, since ages! You return home and tell your parents all about your job, your perfect cubicle, the amazing paycheck etc. In short, you behave like the perfect daughter till they go to sleep. Then, noiselessly, you lock your room and collect the weapons you would need. An hour later, in the dead of the night, you move out of the house with your belongings, the money that you've been saving for a situation like this and your precious canvases.

You move into the night, feeling confident of yourself for the first time. You breathe a freedom breath again. Shrugging off the memories, you move on and an owl hoots a slow mournful sound in the distance with you disappearing around the bend.