Tag-a-War(d)

As usual, when nothing else comes to your rescue a tag definitely does. So, while I still figure out how to get back to blogging business (I’m still suffering from a writer’s block of sorts... the mag robbed me of all my Kreativity), what could be better to grace my beautiful blog than this tag-a-war(d) by Ani.

The Award

(I hope this is the right one, Ani. There were two, so I kinda randomly picked this, coz I've already been awarded the other one)

It’s basically an award that includes a tag. I remember there was a set of rules for this tag but I have no intentions of searching for it. I had just saved the questions when I saw the post and I’d rather get down to doing it before my mother, my sweet angelic mother, calls me in her sugar-coated voice to REQUEST me to prepare lunch! Hmph! (Yeah! She’s been doing that for over a month now. The day she realised orders don’t work as well with me as requests do, she altered her strategy and there’s no escape routeL)

1. What is your current obsession?

Sleep! I’m catching up on it and I’m always sleepy (Don’t ask!).  And oh! Twitter too! It’s so much fun bombarding everyone’s home pages with your trash. :)

2. What are you wearing today?

Vest and shorts.

3. What’s for dinner?

    1) It is 11:22 in the morning and I haven’t even had breakfast, then how the frigging hell am I supposed to know what’s for dinner?!?!

     2) On second thoughts, over-cooked chapattis, that’s what’s for dinner. Since ultimately I’ll end up preparing it and I’m tired of cooking so I’ll just burn everything. Perhaps then mom would stop asking me to cook. *evil grin*

4. What’s the last thing you bought?

A recharge coupon for my phone. *sigh*

5. What are you listening to right now?

Fuzon- More saiyyan mose bole na.

6. What do you think about the person who tagged you?

Ah! I love his 55ers (or less)... would make sure I checked his blog every day before leaving for he was doing the NaBloPoMo posts and they were such a breath of fresh air. Not once did it get redundant or boring. Kudos, Ani!

7. What are your must-have pieces for summer?

Vest and Shorts :P

8. If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?

Back to sleep.

9. Which language do you want to learn?

French and even Bengali: I’ve always been fascinated by the sheer sweetness of these languages.

10. What’s your favourite quote?

“Main niiii” (You see, it’s habit to always reply in the negative)

On a serious note, this would be my favourite quotation: “If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, the possibility of life is destroyed.”

11. Who do you want to meet right now?

I don’t know why (perhaps because his father just called), but I really want to meet P.K.M. right now. He was my dearest, closest friend until an unfortunate incident happened and after that, even though our families are still in touch, we never had the chance or courage to face each other. I wish I could see him now. I miss you, my friend.

12. What is your favourite colour?

Black, any day!

13. What is your favourite piece of clothing in your own closet?

My shorts; I’m obsessed with them! And that Weekender skirt as well! J

14. What is your dream job?

Anything where I don’t actually have to work. I’ve always said that I’m a bibliophile by choice and want to make it a profession too. So, anything where all I have to do is read books (just read them, mind you, no reviews either!) and that’s that. :P

15. What’s your favourite magazine?

Needless to say, it was NOW. It still might be, I don’t know.

16. If you had $100 now, what would you spend it on?

Add it to the money I’m saving for my Pulsar 220. :P

17. What do you consider a fashion faux pas?

Wearing ill-fitted clothes and anything pink. I’m sick of pink! There’s so much of it on the campus.

18. Who are your style icons?

No one, really. On second thoughts, anyone who knows what looks good on them and how to carry what they’re 

wearing. That’s about it.

19. What kind of haircut do you prefer?

Messed up (which I’m told is called ‘emo’ these days). Only because then I can avoid combing and still not worry about how my hair looks. After all, it’s supposed to be messed up! :P

20. What are you going to do after this?

I have two more tags to finish and some 60 blogs to visit (have been away for too long, dammit!) and two tutorials to write and some 5-6 essays to read and 7 different books (that I’m reading at the same time) to finish. I’ll go sleep. J

21. What are your favourite movies?

Ever After, 10 things I hate about you, Into the Wild, The Shawshank Redemption Satte pe Satta (yeah, fine! Stop raising your eyebrow. I do love the movie.), Jo Jeeta Wohi Siknadar, Andaaz Apna Apna and well, these are the ones that came to my mind. The list could go on...

22. What are three cosmetic/makeup/perfume products that you can’t live without?

Can live without everything. I don’t use make-up anyways. Just the dear old kajal. J

23. What inspires you?

Everything. Yes! Everything. Let’s not even get into this now.

24. Give us three styling tips that always work for you:

1) Comfort- always comes first.

2) Make sure what you wear fits you well

3) Minimal DOES work best

25. What do you do when you “have nothing to wear” (even though your closet’s packed)?

It’s time for a clean-up! Throw out all the ‘useless’ clothes and go buy new ones. J

26. Coffee or tea?

Both! Nothing beats a refreshing, hot bed-tea in the morning and a cup of equally refreshing, steaming coffee at night (especially when you have to pull an all-nighter before exams)

27. What do you do when you are feeling low or terribly depressed?

It's a secret!

On second thoughts, I’m quite addicted to the self-inflicted, umm, traumas.

28. What is the meaning of your name?

Creation! I would be really surprised if you hadn’t figured that out by now.

29. Which other blogs you love visiting?

There are too many to mention here. Just take a look at my blog-roll.

30. Favorite Dessert/Sweet?

Jalebi!

And Chocolate truffle and gulabjamun and well, roshogullas!

Okay. Stop.

 31. Favorite Season ?

Winter. J

32. If I come to your house now, what would u cook for me?

I’ll tell you to get out. I’m tired of cooking, freak!

In sane conversation

In the past few days I've been working really hard (or so I like to think) on 'The Project'. One of the few things that help me stay sane during the long, harrowing ( or so they seem to me) work hours (you bet I made that up... I work from home!) are the interesting (that's an understatement) conversations I have with 'my colleague' who happens to be fellow blogger too and although I have decided to reveal the 'top-secret' conversation here, the names have been changed to protect the identities (like that wasn't obvious! duhh).

X: papa can you hear me
X: papa do you see me
X: i am yentl
X: i am a girl
X: but i dress up like a boy
X: and i love a boy
Y: and i am blind
Y: and deaf
X: i am a gay transexual
Y: glad to hear that.. coz i'm not your papa.. i am ur mumma
Y: i got sex-change done too
X: it's a song
X: rofl
Y: seriously?>
X: yup
Y: khooolll
Y: wait. brb
X: lol
X: br a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z
X: MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY!!!!!!
X: MONEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Y: bak-wa
X: ehh?
Y: that's 'back' in bhojpuri
X: oh
X: back - wa
X: right
X: i was like what?
X: lol
Y: you sound like A-CERTAIN-PERSON-WHOSE-NAME-HAS-BEEN-DELETED-TO-AVOID-GETTING-KILLED-BY-HIS/HER-GIRLFRIEND/BOYFRIEND
X: yup
X: everyone makes mistakes
Y: right.. i mena.. that ws lik soooooooooo THAT-SAME-PERSON-WHOSE-NAME-HAS-BEEN-DELETED-TO-AVOID-GETTING-KILLED-BY-HIS/HER-GIRLFRIEND/BOYFRIEND~~
X: ok srry bbye
X: im afraid i dont know any mena....i thought i was talking to Y
Y: lol
X: thats amore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
X: i call another country brother and he shows up?
X: nope
X: not yet
Y: purr-fect... kitty kity kitty

Author's note: There are no other changes except the obvious ones and this conversation isn't bogus or cooked-up either. It's as real as they get!
*smiles*

Mentioning 'the forbidden' and some doodles

Well, I haven't really had the time (or energy) to update my blog of late. The 'project' (can't say more about it, sadly) has been taking up most of time and it seems it has killed all my 'kreativity'.
The only remotely kreative thing I've done in the past few days are some doodles.

Take a look-
(and as usual, my apologies for the bad picture quality. If you're a regular here, you'd know by now that I don't have a good camera.)

Doodle 1

 

This is the cover of my new sketchbook, designed by me of course. *applause applasue*
That Japanese bit is Creation. So, it reads "This book bears the first sweet touch of Creation"
(pretty cheesy, yes... but i always wanted to do that)

Doodle 2 

This is just another random doodle (err, aren't all doodles supposed to be random? ok. whatever.) that I did while watching a torturously crappy movie- John Carpenter's Ghosts of Mars. The less about the movie, the better.

Random Rigmarole 2

Here comes another rambling post... I think this blog should be renamed ‘Creation's Ramblings’. “Kreation” definitely doesn’t even give a vague idea about what to expect. In any case, the need of the hour calls for some rambling considering the phase I'm currently going through can be safely termed- Human Hater.

Yep!
Hate em!
I hate all frigging humans!

 Why?
'Coz they bug me.
The mutton-headed ignoramus imbeciles!!

Now, you, as my distinguished readers will take immense pleasure in pointing out that I'm a human too. That, my dear, is the root of all problems! Being born a human has automatically entitled me to be a recipient for a plethora of emotions which (and even the Gods would nod their assent to this) I definitely cannot handle.


For one, my vacations are on. The god-damned vacations. I'm stuck at home with a family that was last stocked in the super-market under the 'bothersome' section with an eye-catching "Special Offer" sign and minuscule, nearly-hidden caution tag that read "Warning: Irksome Effects. Slightest use might result in permanent loss of sanity."

So, where my father, brother and cousin (who has been especially invited to make sure these vacations go as terrible as possible) take turns with the T.V. to watch Balika Vadhu (the greatest torture man ever invented. Trust me, show an episode to Kasab and he'll tell you all you need to know about the terrorist activites... This show beats third-rate torture by a considerable margin when it comes to atrocities!), play video games and watch the extremely irritating Bakabon's Papa trying to keep pace with a turtle, and watch just about every Govinda movie that is aired (it doesn't really matter that he knows the dialogues of most of these movies by heart), respectively; then form a league of their own to make sure I don't watch the 9 p.m. movie and sulk in my non-a.c., non-cooler room with the fan running at bloody half-speed 'cause my father thinks it's a wastage of electricity if you are not drenched in enough sweat. After all, this makes sure you don't need to use the washing machine to wash your clothes as the dirt's already washed off by your sweat. As for the sweat- well, you can just dry the clothes in the burning sun which shines as if there will be no tomorrow and voila! - You saved a lot of electricity by not using the washing machine, cooler and fan.


Moreover, MTNL officials found a novel idea to fulfil their religious aspirations- a strike! So, while the denizens of Delhi were running from pillar to post to find alternate broadband and telephone connections that worked, the MTNL people were following in the footsteps of the sages of yore and had all migrated to the Himalayas. Sadly, I also happen to be an MTNL consumer and my internet had been down all through last week and I couldn’t drool over Matthew Goode and Channing Tatum work or blog.

To add to this, there is a 7-hour power cut every third day here. (That is how I learnt that the elections were over.)


Okay, I’m ending this post because I’m too bored to continue it. If you read it till now... man! I salute your patience.


Now playing: Phoebe’s “No power”

New York City has no power,

and the milk is getting sour.

But to me it is not scary,

'cause I stay away from dairy.

LA la, la LA la, LA la...

 

P.S.: If you're wondering when did Random Rigmarole 1 came out... it was some 10 months ago.

My humour is Wasted on You

I was reading funny poems
And wondered if I could write one
That's why I picked the pen and paper
But now ideas I have none.

Should I write about the Rivers Known?
Or The Wanderer's great expeditions?
But isn't the Little Girl Lost? The Wanderer gone for a walk?
On what am I to base this huge sensation?

Should I write about bluetooth-enabled zits?
Or would arse-kissing bees work wonders?
I was thinking about incorporating pirate humour
When suddenly all thoughts split and lay asunder!

For I heard a distant muffled cry
Darn! It's he who's calling
It's the hysterical Chicken Little again
And dammit! The sky's falling!

What do I do? Where do I go?
There's no place to run.
And what'll happen to my poem?
The blessed thing is still undone

The blasted sky was falling fast 
I ran hither-thither and I ran helter-skelter
 The only that still wasn't in sight
Was a blessing in disguise- a shelter!

I could find no way out
I cried, I shouted, I wailed but in vain
 And in the midst of all this commotion
The poem was all but forgotten

Now death was approaching and I was helpless
And my nails I began to nibble
But then I realised- It wasn't the sky that was falling. No.

I had just pulled up the hood of my Lamborghini Gallardo  Convertible 

 Anyways: Now I've decided to give up poetry
And my attempt at humour too
What is the point of writing anything,
When my humour is wasted on you!

____________________________________________________________

Author's note: The due credit of the title of this post goes to 'Rhea'lity who keeps lamenting about how her 'humour is wasted' on us lesser mortals.

As for the fact that this might have been the  lamest poem you've ever read...well, blame it on my holidays! I have nothing to do and ideas just don't strike you like Pathan's sixes when you do nothing apart from watching IPL matches and sleep.

The Hut-ke Adventure

 “Many who build castles in the air cannot build a hut on earth”. I did both! Woohoo!!!

Err.. that didn't have the 'dramatic' effect, did it?

Alright then... let us cut the crap and get to the point.

This particular Kreation has a long story behind it. Don't worry, I won't go into the details, but a little background knowledge won't hu(r)t. It so happened that my dear kid brother had to submit a project- a hut. Although his teacher informed them a week ago it was only yesterday that he remembered it (well, of course! It had to be submitted today, you see, and he happens to be the stereotypical procrastinating student and hence the delay).  Although he wanted to make it himself, I knew better to not let him do so else I would have been writing this post sitting not in my room but a junkyard (a seven year old kid can be pretty messy :P)... and that is how this hut came into being.

After I was done making it, I showed the pictures to a friend who suggested that I should "totally put it up on the blog". So, here it is, the hut complete with a pond, a gravel path and an approaching-storm sky!!

My apologies for the poor quality of the pictures. They've been taken from my crappy 1.3 MP cell phone camera.

(Click on the pictures for an enlarged version)

( In this hut where the childhood lives are the
tales of the moist future eyes
Your warm whispers in water drops count the
symbols for the blue times,

Alright, alright... Too melodramatic, I know. :P )

 

(The approching storm... run.. take cover... things are going to get dark now!) 

  

(Yes... scary clouds, aren't they?) 

 

(Oh! Even the sun is frightened, but it's putting a fight! Grr!!) 

 

(The view from the 'pond') 

 

(and another one... just for the heck of it)
 

____________________________________________________________________________________ 

 Author's note: Some interesting facts (read only if you're actually interested)

 1) It took me four hours to make it (that is not counting the two half-hour-long phone calls and numerous interruptions on GTalk or Yahoo Messenger and the time I took off to play those stupid quizzes on facebook... and... Oh! Add to it another 20 minutes when I just sat gazing the pair of scissors in my hands wondering what would be the Hindi alternative for 'deserve' (*sigh*.... another long story.... let us not even go there))

2) The tools used even includes a hammer! (How do you suppose I broke that stone, eh?). And that reminds me... I am sure I heard the aunty, who lives on the ground floor (we live on the first), shouting profanities around mignight when I was hammering away to glory! :-P

 3) I used an empty Mother Dairy 'dahi ka dabba' (a curd can, for the non-Hindi speaking friends) as the cylindrical base!

 4) Some other titles I considered for this post were- Hut-tttt ja re, na pangla le; Ye Tera ghar, Ye Mera Ghar, Hut Sweet Hut, Ye Hut (Haath) Mujhe De De Thakur. (Lol! Cut me some slack people, I was bored.)

5)  I miss the stone that I had to break. It was from my 'Rajasthan-stones' collection. The rest of the collection is intact though, so are my 'Mussoorie-stones', 'Goa-stones', 'Kashmir-stones', 'Ahmedabad-stones', 'Agra-stones'. I collect stones, yup! So, beware... or else you know what's coming your way :-P)

5) I've bored you enough, haven't I? Well... guess I'll just stop. Don't forget to leave a comment. You can even berate my horrible painting skills... I won't even mind that... as long as you leave a comment. :-)

Be careful what you wish for, 'Cause you just might get it all

It is surprising how your feelings can betray you even if you're behind the safety of a monitor and a key-board and not staring in the eyes of the one you're talking to...

Some 10 minutes back, I was chatting with this dear friend . How easily he figured out that something was not right with me and in an effort to cheer me up he sent me this song. It's by Daughtry and it's called 'Home'. Now, Daughtry happens to be one of my favourite singers anyways and his lyrics are simply heart-rending, but this person didn't know it when he sent me the song. Sheer coincidence, yes (even though I don't believe in coincidences).

The song made me cry and this person blamed himself for it (jerk!) and logged off (nincompoop!).

But perhaps, he must be silently smiling to himself for he knew that was exactly what I needed: some solitude, nice music,reflective lyrics and a catharsis!

Thanks. 

It is amazing how what a good night's sleep or a good half hour of catharsis (and I'm not referring to stimulated evacuation of the bowels here) can do to you. Our eyes need to be cleaned with some tears and our minds with some suspended consciousness in a while to make us see the beauty of life yet again.

I felt I should share it with everyone and so, here I am with the song and the lyrics:  

I'm staring out into the night,
Trying to hide the pain.
I'm going to the place where love
And feeling good don't ever cost a thing.
And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.

Well I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.
Well I'm going home.

The miles are getting longer, it seems,
The closer I get to you.
I've not always been the best man or friend for you.
But your love, it makes true.
And I don't know why.
You always seem to give me another try.

So I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.
I'm going home.

Be careful what you wish for,
'Cause you just might get it all.
You just might get it all,
And then some you don't want.
Be careful what you wish for,
'Cause you just might get it all.
You just might get it all, yeah.

Oh, well I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old.
I said these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.
I'm going home. 

On a parting note, a line from this song that strikes me every single time-  "Be careful what you wish for, 'Cause you just might get it all."

Give it a thought.
:-)
 ___________________________________________________________________________________
Author's note: The idea was to actually talk about that particular line, but I'm now leaving it upto you to see what you have to say to it. Do leave a comment. :-)

Glitch in My Brain

 (Image courtesy: My brain tumor)

Yes, you read right. I have always wondered if there was a glitch in my brain (à la Bella, yes) and I have finally come to the conclusion that it is indeed present!

I was thinking (*sigh* contrary to popular belief, yes, I do think) why I never have any answers and why I keep falling in the same dark holes (like LGL’s crab) over and over again. It was then that an important realization dawned on me- I never know what I want, only that which I don’t want!
 

Now, I don’t have any regrets from my life; I have (more or less) lived it the way I wanted to. I have learnt from my mistakes but never regretted a moment of my life, so far. It was all necessary to make me what I am today. I was learning then, I am learning still and I will continue to learn, always.
 

The trouble, if any, is that, yet again, I do not know what I want and this time I’m afraid of losing my way! Trust me; it is not a good feeling at all.
Ignorance is bliss, you say, eh? Bite me!
THIS ignorance is NOT good!!!
 

Imagine yourself as lost in some gigantic, befuddling intricate labyrinth of sorts; just standing there- inert, passive, stationary- while hundreds, thousands, millions of human souls move about frantically looking for their respective destinations, for the maze has a different escape route for every individual. At least they are aware of their destinations, but what about you? You are just- lost- in every sense of that word.
 

Now can you feel your insides horribly squirming; inexplicably?

It is not good, not good at all.
 

Wish I knew the way out of this maze...
 

I will write more about this ‘glitch in my brain’ (maybe/ maybe not). But for now, it’s time to scoot. A certain author X and his critics A, B and C are all waiting with their paranormal theories to devour whatever is left of my poor brain.

___________________________________________________________________________________ 

Author's note: I was seriously considering putting it up on my other blog, but then decided to go against it. Don't ask me why. I don't know!

Currently singing- Phoebe's "Trapped in the Hospital Closet"- 

And they found their bodies the very next day,
they found their bodies the very next day,
la la la, la la la, la la la...
:-)

An Ode to Friendship (a Clerihew gone horribly wrong)

(This picture, copyright: Anubhav Pradhan, has been put up here as a celebration of the institution where I met all the wonderful (no pun intended!) people mentioned in the post.)

Author's note: Yes, I know I always include the author's note at the end of my posts but considering the 'sensitive' nature of this post, I've decided to include it before the post! First and foremost, I want to apologize to Mr. Edmund Clerihew Bentley, for it was he who invented the whimsical four-line biographical poem with irregular lengths and an AABB rhyme scheme (courtesy: Wikipedia). It was after reading this post on Aniket's blog that I decided to write some Clerihews about my friends (I have written some before, but never really kept a record of them). Now, I suppose this recent attempt went horribly wrong and I don't know if the following verses can be qualified as Clerihews, but what the heck! Just put them all together and it becomes a poem! Now people (especially the ones mentioned in this piece, their respective bfs and gfs ('cause it's the 'better' halves I'm more scared of), and their well-wishers (if there are any!)), before you go ahead and read the piece and before my inbox is flooded with hate-mail and perhaps even a few threatening ones, I want you to realise that this post has been written in good humour and is intended to be read the same way. If you happen to get offended by whatever you read down there, just keep your mouth shut and bang your head on the wall (you can even scream in your pillow, or anywhere else for that matter, as long as the sound doesn't travel to me) and never talk to anyone about this. Further, these are MY views so you cannot draw any stupid conclusions or weird interpretations.

Ah! Now that we've got those considerations out of the way, let us come to the better part- the poem itself-

An Ode to Friendship

Debabrat Sukla, the Ladies’ Man
Came up with a master plan
He wanted to get six-pack abs
And thought that he’d look fab
But sadly, the plan backfired,
For his diet consisted of only kebabs!

Komal Khulbe, that pretty girl
Would twist and twirl, swoosh and swirl
And walk the streets with elan
Hand in hand with Sukla- her man!

Falak Fatima, the staunch feminist
Wasn’t afraid to use that iron fist
But sadly, when one day Tariq bore the brunt
That was the last she ever led from the front!

Rhea Srivastava, is quite like lava
Trust me buddy, you don’t wanna cross her.
Queen of sarcasm, difficult to comprehend,
Epitome of weird-ness; simply speaking- my dearest friend

Sandipon,
No! The name doesn’t rhyme with porn
He, as we know, is one lost character
Sutta and Daaru is all he’s after!

Abhishek Chauhan,
Woah! What a man!
Is there a fight going on around?
Call him and see them all fall down!

Kamal Kishore... Jon 
Stalking everyone on the phone.
Please make sure you don’t give him your number
Or he’s sure to wake you up from your slumber.

Anubhav Pradhan, a self-appointed squire
Of the city-of-djinns (It’s what he desired!)
His organisational skills are quite well-known
Till date, that farewell is what everybody mourns


Samarth Chandola, a self proclaimed ba****d,
Becoming a tyrant and womanizer were dreams he fostered
All day he would repeat- BTW and BTW
And before you figured what that meant, he’d bid adieu!


Snigdha Jain, the midget?
With her, dare you fidget!
She’s bound to dissect you and then scrutinize.
For this is one dame you just don’t catechize.

Kriti Sharma, the ever-bored
Is, by her own wits, floored.
She never knew she could come up with this
But now that she has, she feels eternal bliss.


Author's note 2: This poem was also posted on facebook because of some dreadfully lethargic slothful procrastinators (yes, I know they're all synonyms!) who just won't click on this link to read the post here. All the comments that this post garners there will be reproduced (in full and without editions) here. 

I

have realised that I stay sane when I spend a considerable time studying and considering my exams are on... padhai  is all I would be doing. So, yes... happy 'sane' days ahead.

Not to self: Why the hell are you still online and waiting for comments on a crappy post as this? Go, Goddammit, study!

It was a bright cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen

Right after the first exam- Individual and Society (which went quite well considering the questions were ridiculously easy (and since only I (Yes! The others found it a lil 'weird' and lengthy (WTF!)) found it easy, I'm sure I've screwed it up.)), I was excited (and ruffled and jittery and twitchy... get the picture?) about the next one- Environmental Issues in India (or EII, as it's better known). Since we didn't have any classes in the third term, we had not done a single case study (and there are nine!). I decided to not take things lightly and asked a friend of mine (who happens to be younger than me and yet my senior in college) to help me out. This helpful soul (I'm not being sarcastic!) came to the college and I spent the day studying EII. 

(Check the parenthesis)

What did I learn?

Take a look-

(Click on the pictures for a larger version)

 

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. 

- Dickens

You must not know too much or be too precise or scientific about birds and trees and flowers and watercraft; a certain free-margin, and even vagueness - ignorance, credulity - helps your enjoyment of these things.

Now hast thou but [two bare years] to live,

And then thou must be damned perpetually.

Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven,

That time may cease, and midnight never come.

And this our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything. -Shakespeare

 Adda: Our little heaven. They say that Heaven is like TV... a perfect little world, that doesn't really need you.

If you would be pungent, be brief; for it is with words as with sunbeams - the more they are condensed, the deeper they burn.

 

Aim at the sun, and you may not reach it; but your arrow will fly far higher than if aimed at an object on a level with yourself.

Character is like a tree and reputation like its shadow. The shadow is what we think of it; the tree is the real thing.

 Every creature is better alive than dead, men and moose and pine trees, and he who understands it aright will rather preserve its life than destroy it. -Thoureau

You will find something more in woods than in books. Trees and stones will teach you that which you can never learn from masters.

I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things do.

There's nothing that keeps its youth,

So far as I know, but a tree and truth.

Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling.

Go often to the house of thy friend; for weeds soon choke up the unused path.

Those whom we support hold us up in life.

False friendship, like the ivy, decays and ruins the walls it embraces; but true friendship gives new life and animation to the object it supports. - Richard Burton

If you reveal your secrets to the wind you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees. - Khali Gibran

To see the earth as it truly is, small and blue and beautiful in that eternal silence where it floats, is to see ourselves as riders on the earth together, brothers on that bright loveliness in the eternal cold. -Archibald MacLeish

Thank heavens the sun has gone in, and I don't have to go out and enjoy it.

We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools. - Martin Luther King Jr.

 

Tis education forms the common mind; 

Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined. 

- Alexander Pope

 For man, autumn is a time of harvest, of gathering together. For nature, it is a time of sowing, of scattering abroad. -Edwin Teale

It is not much for its beauty that makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanates from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit. - R.L. Stevenson

 Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction. -Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Gardens and flowers have a way of bringing people together, drawing them from their homes.

 The strongest man in the world is he who stands alone.

It is not growing like a tree in bulk doth make man better be; 

Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, 

To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere, 

A lily of a day is fairer in May 

Although it fall and die that night, 

It was the plant of flower and light, 

In small proportions we just beauties see; 

And in short measures, life may perfect be. 

The Critics' Advocate: Gates to heaven, anyone?

My words fly up, my thoughts remain below. Words without thoughts never to heaven go. - Shakespeare

 The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. It is the logician who seeks to get the heavens into his head. And it is his head that splits. - Chesterton

From the persistence of noise comes the insistence of rage. From the emergence of tone comes the divergence of thought. From the enlightenment of music comes the wisdom of... silence. - Visions of Gregorian Chants

Thank God men cannot as yet fly and lay waste the sky as well as the earth!

One need not be a chamber to be haunted; One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. - Emily Dickinson

God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages.

In the attitude of silence the soul finds the path in a clearer light, and what is elusive and deceptive resolves itself into crystal clearness. Our life is a long and arduous quest after Truth.

I think that I shall never see a billboard lovely as a tree. Perhaps, unless the billboards fall, I'll never see a tree at all.

That's what college is for - getting as many bad decisions as possible out of the way before you're forced into the real world. I keep a checklist of 'em on the wall in my room.

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.

And you think I would waste such a good day trying to study wretched EII? Naah!! Impossible.

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Author's note: I just wasted some two hours  searching for good quotes and uploading these pictures. If you don't leave a comment... I'll haunt you forever with a dagger in my hand chanting "It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen". 

Have fun.

Cheers!