Finally, a place where I get to say all the things that I wish to say.This is probably what the Beatles sang about, the Nowhere land where Mr.Nowhere Man is free to make his Nowhere plans for Nobody. This was what the poets called The Island of the Lotus Eaters, Utopia, Xanadu or Wonderland.
I'll be talking about a variety of things like Travelling, Poetry, Music, Books, Science, Philosophy, Adventure, Automobiles, Religion, Epics, Sociology, History and Spirituality.
The views or opinions that I express here are my very own, I do not intend to offend anyone with my views. In case you are offended by my writings or illustrations, go ahead and feel offended, I thrive on your offendedness.
"I shall be heard"
- Sujay Sukumar (Blabbergob)
posted by Sujay Sukumar at 12:04 PM
8 Comments:
Cool Place buddy!!
Dude!! waiting to see what you'll post..
Dear Blabbergob,
Now I believe that unemployment has reached epic levels. It is the sign of the times that young employable (Don't check the dictionary for this word) Indians like you have descended to these depths of boredom.
What is also surprising is that we actually have time to sit and check all these useless blogs and even comment on them.
Hope you get Offended..
Have A Good Day
Khan Imran with inputs from Randhir Sivasankar...
"There is nothing so useless as doing efficiently that which should not be done at all" --
Peter F. Drucker
hahaha!!!
To the critics with love:
The artist transfigures his leisure into a rainbow, and places it over the brook for the world to see. The child bursts into a rhyme merely looking at the colors in the rainbow. Two lovers clasp their hands a little closer, the rainbow to them is an omen of good times to come. A student of science sees the significance of the rainbow. The farmer looks up, wipes his brow, and greets the rainbow with a smile, for no apparent reason. The critic overlooks the rainbow, he sees the artist instead, and notices the smiling artist in no apparent hurry, carefully making fine strokes with his brush on a canvas.
The critic then grouches, and mumbles something about the artist being unemployed and walks away.
It is the critic who brings to our notice any scope for improvement. In doing this he patiently analyzes everything that offends him in trying to look for negative aspects. The critic is like a pathologist, he patiently meddles with the stool, spending more time with it than the creator, and finally his verdict says that the stool should never have come in for an examination in the first place. Let us not be offended by what the critic has to say, for he is merely utilizing his time.
I like your sense of humour!
Sujay you should try poetry...
What a great site
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