Gone Are The Days

Cartoon Network never provided me with a better idea than to call to order a piece on two of the most, probably, famous characters that rocked the cartoon world for years. And they still do that for me, not that my existence, good-for-naught as it may seem, is decorated with a cum laude dandy enough to make me eligible for the same however much I may wish for it to be otherwise.Together formulating a duo better than Remulus and Remus- celebrated, far-famed, illustrious, renowned, and all other synonyms which define fame and still fail to capture the essence of the shadow of the aura that they created- they formulated the legends of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck- arch-rivals to an extent, best friend even further. Now, conceptualizing the possible relation between them and the pertinence that they could possibly exude in the frame of reference we refer to as reality, although reality, in reality, remains pretty unrealistic, realistically speaking. That having been said, what exactly define...

After blowing the last trumpet over the exams with a mixed bag of emotions, I began the long haul back home. While commuting to my place, I found a strange lamp. Always a believer in fairy tales, especially if you count in The Arabian Nights, I rubbed the lamp with a zip. Nothing. Once more, followed by twice more. Still nothing other than my hands getting soiled with the dirt. Drenched with disappointment, I resumed my journey. Half an hour more of mulling over the exams, and the loss of the three wishes that should have been rightfully mine, I enter my house hollering, " Khaane mein kya hai? (What is there for lunch?)"  throwing out the question to anyone who could pour out an answer for me. Mother of all surprises, it was my mother who answered, " Roti, daal, sabji (flat-bread, lentils, and a plethora of vegetables which could make a dead man jump out of his grave in fright)," she threw back at me. And poof- all my excitement bobbed under the ever-present sen...

An eight pointer in English can inflate one's ego pretty well. Reciprocating that, a deflating pinch delivered by History leaves one feeling like a collapsed balloon. Take it from one who knows. I started things off well with the curvy lady- Number Eight. She is a great seductress, funny- the frequency with which I am using this word lately (courtesy the pairing up of seduction and Mark Antony by a certain someone which kept me rolling all over the floor, laughing, till I was called on the carpet by my mother), and kept me happy for quite a while. But as they always do, she too grew old, a bit too quick for me, and left me bereaving after her. Replaced by others, of which none could keep me happy for long, she, at the same time, stood irreplaceable. I am, at the moment, gearing up for the coming Tuesday for I know she is there, concealed within the fingers of four professors, all of them showing their penny-pinching parsimony, reluctant to give away marks quite contrary to the ...

There are days when you wonder what has happened to this world that- in context of the recent occurrences- it seems tilted towards the negative aspects of life. Now negative, in itself, is a relative term. What with its broad meanings varying with the demographics, if I use a slightly bugging scientific term for the very description of human populace. Nay, it varies from person to person. However revolting we, and I speak for myself and like-minded people, birds of a feather as we may be called, may find the act of cannibalism, it did exist. And with my tongue pressed between my teeth,   I tap the dreadful rhythm on the keyboard- we seem to be cycling back, the wheel of time revolving, a differing form of cannibalism but retaining the aforesaid qualities, if they be called such, that defined it. The current situation of rising crime rates seems to make Saturn, the devourer of his own son, look like a cute toy-story character which, if I may be as prudent as to say, evince h...