Finally. After 4 months.

But before you read that, remember this: When you start exercizing the creative parts of your brain after 4 months, you’re bound to be rusty in the beginning. Ok, make that double or even triple rusty. One is just warming up. One will return to the previous glory (if there ever was such a thing, ofcourse).

Keep the faith, people.

Thank you!

The Prison

She placed her hands on the cold wire of the fence and felt the dew tickle her palms.

“Please move away from the fence, Ma’am. Thank you.”

The guard had moved a step from his usual place, towards her. She turned around to him and smiled. And continued leaning onto the fence.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. Please stand back.”

It was funny how formal he was being. She wondered what stopped him from just shouting, ‘Get outta there, you freak!’. Must be the uniform. She also realized she was enjoying this little rebellion of sorts.

“And what if I don’t move back? You’ll shoot me?”

Read on…

The Room (contd.)

Everyone was asleep that night, when I placed the ladder against the house right beneath the broken window. Which broken window, you ask? You know which window. The one in the room, the room where no one goes. There was a chilly wind blowing and I’d left my sweater back on my bed. I thought of my bed and how nice it would be to be in there, between the covers, planning about getting into this room rather than standing in the garden and actually trying to get into the room. I climbed the ladder and reached the window after what seemed like an hour, when really it was only 10 minutes.

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The Room

There’s a room in our house where no one goes. Fairly small, with a heavy wooden door that looks centuries old. Maybe if I looked closely enough I might even find characters from an extinct language, the things archaeologists only find in historic ruins or some such places. It’s a mystery, this room, that no one goes to. There are cobwebs around the huge iron padlock and no one knows where the key is. Not even Grandpa. He doesn’t like talking about the room, it makes him nervous and he starts mumbling something about the weather or the garden. We don’t have a garden, you see.

Read more…

Absolute nothingness

Why WordPress is not so bad – (an actual error message when I was trying to refresh the Dashboard)


Why Windows is crazy – (an actual error message when I was just sitting in front of the laptop that runs on Windows XP)


And here’s something for you since I’m out of ideas for today. Give me a witty Calvinesque one-liner for the picture below –


What do you get out of it? In short, nothing. C’mon, be a sport, let your imaginations run wild. Who knows, you could be the next Bill Watterson!

In other news, Prose and Verse is finally updated after God knows how long!