Mmmmm.... this basically consists of a lot of alphabets, which I've painstakingly arranged in particular patterns to make sense, called words. And, hardworking that I am, I've taken those words and placed them in different horizontal orientations to make nonsense, called P's Mentalpiece.
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I'm Prathap. I'm 20 now. And if you have time left over after running around trying to make the world a better place, feel free to make my life miserable by sending me more mail
My bloggie pals (You've seen these names elsewhere too? In the members list of the Bandra Gangsta-raper association? Mummy!!!)
Aditi
Anand
Anya
Khushee
Krishna
Sonal
Swami
Jay Menon
Richa
Nids
"A nice bunch of names for my next novel."
-Stephen King
"Ooooh... scary!"
-The New York Times
"The list sure is spooky, but they should have included an 8" by 6" image of this blog's owner for spine-chilling effect"
-Vogue
Ahem.... enough of the reviews.
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P's Mentalpiece
The life and times of... er...d-uh...ah! someone bound to be very, very famous...
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Monday, October 14, 2002
I keep seeing you - a haze of gold,
In warm memories of days gone cold.
Miss you.
-P.
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Friday, October 04, 2002
Every morning I walk out convinced I'm looking my best. Not that I find girls stopping in a crowded street to take a good long look at me. In fact, if I remember right, the last time that happened was about 17 years ago, when I had a face that could make any sumptous female go weak in the knees. But, not being the one to get disheartened easily, I still launch fresh operations on my hair, clothes et cetera every morning in an attempt to make myself look groovy. And today, I almost did it. I mean, the moment I stepped into college, I found the girls stealing glances at me, more specifically, at my pelvic girdle, to put it mildly. In fact, some were even passing naughty smiles, and I retorted with the confident grin I keep up my sleeve for such occasions when I'm feeling sky high. Indeed, I was elated over my hike in sex appeal, which had rocketed above all sane limits. Thats when George leans over and whispers into my ear "Psssst.... fly open...". Damn.
-P.
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Tuesday, October 01, 2002
Some bloke once said “Reading maketh the man”. Now, I am not certain who the fellow was, but the reader will find it self evident that he didn’t have the faintest idea about human anatomy. Next, the reader, though he / she is no Andreas Vesalius, may proceed to explain that it is actually “Bones, muscles, blood and the lot that maketh the man”, and I whole heartedly congratulate him / her for clarifying the matter, for it is no mean achievement describing human anatomy in 10 words. Shakespeare had once described the future of a human in 10 words – “To be or not to be, that is the question”. Hence, the reader, though he / she is no William Shakespeare, does deserve a pat on the back from me (especially if the reader is a ‘she’ rather than a ‘he’, as far as me patting the back is concerned). But, what the reader would have overlooked is the fact that, whilst blundering “Reading maketh the man”, the orator had actually meant mental make-up, rather than it’s physical counterpart. I am certain that the reader will jump up from his seat, and planting a foot heavily down, shout “I knew it! I knew it!” Now come, let’s face it, you obviously didn’t. And because you didn’t, I take it upon myself to explain what the man meant. Yes, it is reading that enlivens the soul, so to speak. Books after books can keep us up and kicking, and in this category of books falls the one named a Dictionary.
Indeed, the Dictionary is a useful book. Apart from it’s many uses as a self-defence weapon and a bicep-builder weight, a marginal fraction of the populace also use it to expand their vocabulary. Now, to suit this purpose well, a Dictionary has to be updated. Hence, the authors who painstakingly compile this mammoth book put their heads together time and again to come up with the most precise elucidations of words. Believe me, this is no easy task. And, helpful that I am, I felt I should lighten their burden a bit. Lately, a lot of controversy has sprung up regarding the word “irregular”. Hence, I decided to end all confusion once and for all, and, after a fortnight of hard work, I can claim that in the next Dictionary you come across, you’ll find the word “irregular” defined as –
Irregular – P’s Mentalpiece.
There! My li’l contribution to the great English language. It may be small, but its mine, and I’m proud of it. I can sense the eyes of my reader welling up, and taking in a deep breath, I can hear him / her sniff “Bravo! Bravo!”. Indeed, in my mind’s eye, I can also see myself wiping a tear off his / her cheek (especially if the reader is a ‘her’ rather than a ‘him’, as far as me wiping a tear off the cheek is concerned).
In fact, I expect to stick to my word, and be irregular for quite some time now. You see, college has ultimately begun (4 months after school came to an end). It’s a new place, a new world. And I have no comp where I’m staying now. Moreover, college work is on the hectic side, and I’m still not out of my lethargic mood. So I don’t know when I may post next, but you can take my word on it – irregular. I’m gonna be irregular.
-P.
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