when big boys get the BLUES...

czechs mates
they might just go home with this one. frankly, i don't think anyone else deserves it.
ohoooooooo its very pretty and exciting now.

so why can't england be more like portugal?
at least can they relocate london during june-july so wimbledon doesn't have to get rained on every year!
while we're at it, can they/we/whoever keep lords dry just for tomorrow?!???

many many gorgeous sarees and i snapped out of my nasty nastase mood.

many sarees: green ones, delicious ones, bargainy ones, ilkal, Cat liked many, i liked some, till we got the Nightqueen her shade we waded through stiff waves of five and half yardy six yard cottons. i ignored the grey one this time, made eyes at lesser mortals, twisted nose at many price-tags and the Cat told many serious-serious jokes. but i snapped out of my nasty nastase this time with very little help from all and sundry. thanks everyone for putting up with the many snappy momentos. and if some of you never noticed, well what can i say, i'm getting better at it all the time. Heh.

The Professori and I, a few months ago on one of our Wednesday Letting Off Steam and Smoke sessions discussed which poems each of us thought conveyed anger most excitingly. For some odd reason have felt like evoking both lately.

This is his:

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night
Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And this mine:

A Poison Tree
William Blake

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe;
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I water'd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with my smiles
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veil'd the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree

erm...what can i say?!

the world is a deja vu. most of the people i know have accused me of not keeping in touch with them. they have all done it in the last 2 years. maybe i'm a bad person. maybe its the only way i can entertain myself. by turning into a very bad person. maybe i don't have long distance calling at point-c, maybe i took too many classes that kept me from mailing the world, maybe i have no problem jumping into conversation with people i haven't kept in touch for days, weeks or even years, maybe I have 53 people on my yahoo list and can't go on visible ever, maybe i just never realize i haven't called/ written someone in very long. anyway, maybe all these are huge problems and i've never realized that. oh god, i can't help it now, its too long a list to fix and it might take forever to do the needful. i gotta go.

the world is a deja vu. most of the people i know have accused me of not...

so, how're you doing?!

Dear Vinston,
And now I have zero degree of separation from someone who'll play at Lords!

Dear Evil Sidekick,
Good on ya mayte! And kick some ass while you're at it. But most importantly CONGRATULATIONS.

love,
happie mottey.

sooooooooo unfair.
they're just scared. as usual playing dirty. aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgh.

the joking in all her glorious madness

has been making a quilt from her mother's old silk sarees for her-who-will-arrive-soon. and when asked to describe it since we are once again oceans apart, she said "the quilt is blue-green, cream, rust and yellow. it reminds me of a square sea." no, don't bat an eyelid, this is standard joking behaviour. she has been, through her life, responsible for breaking many hearts before being asked out for coffee by the king as he walked into the checquered bookstore she worked at. of course she carried a knife in her bag for the first date- "for all i know he could have been a goonda" was what she told me in defense of her actions.
anyway i am just taking the opportunity to go a little more public about her-who-will-arrive-soon. may SHE grow up making more square seas, breaking hearts as is her mother's wont, please gain knowledge of the game of cricket only from her father, please god and other acting invisible forces do make sure about the last request, please, please, plllllllleassssssssssse!!

ok, so all those of you who missed the England-France match, shoot yourselves now.
it was brilliant.

France-2
England-1

boyz

Starchild and Le Brat stopped by yesterday to talk about and-so-this-is-how-far-we-have-come things, England's line-up without John Terry, i know this but you don't know that, women in tuition class being hot, about themselves being hit-onable by pretty much the best and is america another planet. Then the boyz competed, Le Brat talked about Hollywood films while Starchild wanted to discuss guitars, Le Brat showed off his knowledge of the world and Starchild played up his local-boy antics. My head whirled, i coughed for punctuation, made coffee, told them about the harleys, and that i hated New York, and got back into the groove.
coo-coo ca choo mrs. ...

PORTUGAL
sighhhh. and what else can i say...

Last Evening's Comic Horror Show

so everyone was inside the serios-serious screening place watching the big anti-gun hoo-ha film and the Horror is sitting upright in her cold manner within an envelope of nothing-around-me-affects me and then it happened. in the wannabe pitch darkness of the s-s screening place her cellphone rang. if you knew her you'd know that this is a thing that made her squirm and turn many colours, yes such subtle physiological changes in the Horror are noticeable even in that darkness because its the stone-cold Horror. she leapt, in a Horror like manner, which trust me doesn't involve any leaping movements and reached the door. while all this happened which must have lasted 2 and a half seconds she made noises of apology, which let me assure sound nothing like apology because it is the Horror. ok, now i'm getting to the funny part...the door wouldn't give so she had a cold, sweary struggle with the door and the curtain before she got outside. yes she swore, of course you had to be there to tell she was swearing and then she glared at the phone!!! hooooooooooooooooooooh, that was the most hilarious part. a Horror stare at that inanimate phone was the best. its probably the only event that makes me totally believe Hacking's distinction between indifferent kinds and interactive kinds.
oh god, you had to be there, it was hilarioussssssssss.

dancing nancies

By: Dave Matthews Band

Could I have been
A parking lot attendant
Could I have been
A millionaire in Bel Air
Could I have been Lost somewhere in Paris
Could I have been
Your little brother
Could I have been
Anyone other than me
Could I have been
Anyone other than me
Could I have been
Anyone other than me

-at this moment would especially kill to be a parking lot attendant anywhere near calypso or nagasri in 4th Block Jayanagara and exude that oomph and bravado the P.L.As there seem to be kings of.

BTW, the process is as follows:

1. If you think you have been graded lower in a way that is a civil rights violation (race, gender, sexual orientation, place of origin), you can file a formal grievance and a committee will be formed to investigate and, if they find in your favor, they will change the grade without permission of instructor;


2. Otherwise, you can only file a grade complaint, stating reasons you think you have been misgraded, the committee investigates, makes a recommendation, but the final decision rests with the instructor.


I no longer know whether this is worth it. I think they have acted like scoundrels and I don't like them to think they can just invent grades--and I do think there are "prejudices" working in my case. I don't know if you feel the same way--certainly their infantilization of you as an "international student" seems to me to bear thinking about, but I'm hardly trying to egg you on.

...and so saying a dear friend, many oceans away has sown the seeds of a rumble. you know its like that thing- when they tell you not to think of an elephant and all you can do is you know...

okokok. eating crow.

G.Gaudio 0 3 1
G.Coria 6 6 2

I like it. And I'm back in business it looks like.
The glitch is that the power's gone at the cable place and I can't watch the match which is taking me back to that Wisden-Cricinfo in Chicago kind of situation but otherwise things are going my way. And mind you I picked Coria during that Moya match.

She won. And yes I was supporting her. Erm...for obvious reasons. Heh heh.

Did the familiar but its-been-ages trip on Mysore Road with the dream of renewing happier times and fond memories and it was all that. Had almost forgotten how much I loved doing the trip alone on afternoons when the traffic forgets to be thick and mean. It was fun and fruitful. Very renewable.

The Raj will be here soon. The dinner at K's was a giggly riot. I think i'm supporting Coria at the French finals. And Argentina, don't cry for anyone. Now that all those silly Americans have stopped ruling the clay and grass it makes for cleaner breathing.And i want to be at Roland Garros one day when serve-volleyers win the slam. Giggly-dee looked very nice in the film. I still like the multiplying books at serious-serious. My Kelle-belle wrote me a loooooong mail from Point-C. I believe the mean bumby continues to innuendo at my expense! So except for a few unnecessary glitches almost all's well with the world in Point-B.

The Big Hoo-Ha kicks off in a day in small-towm america and one is supposed to expect fire works what with all the recent drama that sent up so much smoke from Underdog-U!! And here I am faar faaaar away from all that schnazz. Maybe I'm feeling a few pangs at not being there but mostly I'm thrilled to be out of the mayhem for a while. I'm hoping to get the juice of the grapewine from KingKarloz and B.Almighty. Coming from them the dirt is bound to be spicier than it really is. I'll wait. But I could kill to know whats really happening.
I know you must be thinking, and only a day ago she was complaining about "gossip". But see, its different in Point-C, the grist doesn't rotate in a frenzied whirlpool, instead, it hits the ceiling fan. And much wind letting ensues. Much.

That Hanif is quite a mad. It saw a short man running on the road today and said "Run, kulla run." She's a very bad.