100 not out

Do not think, ‘Oh, why does she boast?’
Writing was something I’ve wanted to do most,
So, went the whole hog,
And got myself a blog –
Welcome, people, to my one hundredth post!

I did it! No big deal in a cosmic sense, but for little earth people like me – sure made my day to see that magical 3 digit number on my blog. Is it weird that it feels like an achievement of sorts? Maybe because it amazes me that I was (am?) committed to the blogging cause for so long – I rarely do that, you know.

What started as a trivial thing I did to get over my homesickness when I was in the US has now, to put it mildly, become a part of my life. It does sound lame (ofcourse it is lame – it’s a blog, for godsakes!), but then, there isn’t much avenue to do something creative in my profession, so this is how I make it up. I’m glad I didnt take up writing full time though – would have been a disaster – I cannot imagine doing this for my daily idli (not a big fan of bread, so…)!

Seems such a long way from the ’50 not out’, but here I am! 🙂


So..here’s to me and my blog! 🙂 Yes, I can be this self-centered at times – actually, most times. I was born this way.

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The omnipresent kitchen knife

Once there was a girl who was accident-prone –
Whatever she did, it always ended with her groan.
She cut herself today,
Like she does everyday
It’s a pity resistentialism won’t leave her alone!

What’s my issue with inanimate objects? Try reading this -> The chair or the bed?

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

I saw pale kings, and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
Who cry’d–“La belle Dame sans merci
Hath thee in thrall!”

That was my first taste of John Keats. In 6th grade, I took part in a poetry recitation contest and this was what our team chose to recite. It was about a knight who had lost his ‘fair maiden’. I was too young to know about poetic license or iambic pentameter, but I thoroughly enjoyed reciting it. I fell in love with poems. Keats, Blake (Tiger Tiger burning bright), Wordsworth (who can forget Daffodils), Ogden Nash (my favourite – This is going to hurt just a little bit – I hate going to the dentist too!), Coleridge (Rime of the Ancient Mariner – ‘water water everywhere, nor any drop to drink’ fame)..I read them all! Only one regret though – I couldn’t memorize every line I ever read – tough, I know..sob sob.

It’s just amazing how some people (poets) can see normal things and make it poetry. I’ve tried my hand at it – the less said about it the better folks! Disaster is an understatement. You have to be Keats to write about an urn – honestly, when I see an urn, I just see something that can hold water! I know I know I’m terrible!!!!! It’s hopeless I tell you. Poets are born, not made – atleast that’s what I tell myself to feel better about my failure.

Believe it or not, I also tried doing limericks. Here goes my first one ever, I wrote it when I was in my 10th grade – (no comments on this please, I know what you’re going to say, so save it!)

After their dreamy marriage
They set off in a carriage
To the moon
For a honeymoon
But returned due to alien barrage.

There. Laugh. It’s ok, I can completely understand. But you know what? I atleast had the guts to put it on my blog. So I’m not that bad after all.

I’ll end this with my favorite lines (don’t worry, not mine. ) –

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water’d heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

By the way, the knight does not find his fair maiden till the end – she was afterall ‘La belle dame sans merci’.