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Reactions & Ramlings

So now two of my dedicated (and oldest) blog readers have told me in no uncertain terms that my posts have become monotonous, boring and totally lacking my typical style. That I have become the indiscriminate blogspot blogger, else something like an EMO blogger...nothing more than my typical life to write about - what I did when etc etc. and not a bit about the wierd wanderings of my mind that I used to write about earlier. Well, what can I say. I guess environment makes a difference. Left to myself I could do that, but now with a much more depressing work env (when I was looking out in my prev co) what do you expect? A will to write, but nothing particularly interesting can come out of that.
Flights of fancy are not brought on at will.

And SO I end up writing what I feel like. For afteral, it may be nice if someone reads my posts, but its all about me writing fo myself, as this post no doubt is. Its about writing, getting tings off my head, and for myself.

Garba has started and I felt the heat again last night as I went back to CEPT for the dance. To the uninitiated, else to a future travelling European, it would almost seem like a mass movement to reach a trance like stage. It is a trance. Tired you may become but its almost a compulsio to conitnue with the faster beats. Well, I wrote about it enough last yr, now I look forward to the coming days.

Which reminds me of my CEPT frnd last night. The guy couldnt stop raving about this Bong girl he likes. I have heard this raving on bong women from so many places I think I need to re look at bong women. I wonder why Bong men cannot be equally interesting? It would make the life of most bong women (including me) much simpler to say the least! [It is the unanimous opinion of all I know (including my family) that Bong men in general are a hopeless breed, fit to be made extinct]. Meanwhile my standard piece of advice to men all around who like bong women, dont fret that this one said no, just pack ur bags n go to Calcutta. I assure you there is no lack of Bong Women there. Oh! and please let me know how 'great' they are after reaching there. And to the ladies, well babes, you cant do much about it now that you are already born a non bong, you can just try to cope up by following my footsteps if you can.
[To the uninitiated - Bongs are Bengalis, born but not necessarily bred in the Eastern region of India caled West Bengal, by quirk of fate (im talking of the name of the place here, not bengalis). It has been noticed that they (bong women) have a tendency to be rude, rather strongly opinionated, sometimes well kept, more often rather plump, strong languaged, well read, intelligent, and with a tendency to hit other people (men) and swear (any language) rather hard. They also like fish and food and sweets. Of course, there are normal women also around, and all above qualities may not be found in a single specimen in all cases, but because of the weaker personalities of such people, they dont come to the limelite so often. Goodness knows what these others rave about in them. But I guess I shouldnt mind ;) - This of course was a dispassionate note on the basis of my batchmates in school/college, with no personal involvement at all.]

What else, well after much movement, finally my house shifting hs come to a tragic pause. Start button needs to be pressed soon.

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( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
27th Sep, 2006 15:11 (UTC)
i return
i have returned to the blog world after ages,and to find that you are back to your good old blogging ways courtesy some feedback :).like you said though you cant turn out good stuff when one is preoccupied or in my case when one is hardly occupied.:). Still check out my blog, i have at last updated it!.
28th Sep, 2006 04:16 (UTC)
Re: i return
will check out ur blog, and yeah...my post has nothing to do with your feedback except the first few sentences.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

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Regurgitations of my mind. Specific, Vague, Memorable, Forgettable, Thoughtless, In-depth.

More variegated than your dreams or colours off a crystal. More than I can pen down. What I can, you can read.

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