Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Ickily, Limerickily yours!

Yeah, I was bored. Yes, even before a Physics exam. So I searched for some limericks to lighten me up. And I also ended up getting some information on them.... Here goes...

Limericks - The History
Variants of the form of poetry referred to as Limerick poems can be traced back to the fourteenth century English history. Limericks were used in Nursery Rhymes and other poems for children. But as limericks were short, relatively easy to compose and bawdy or sexual in nature they were often repeated by beggars or the working classes in the British pubs and taverns of the fifteenth, sixteenth and seventh centuries. The poets who created these limericks were therefore often drunkards! Limericks were also referred to as dirty.

Where does the term 'Limerick' come from?
The word derives from the Irish town of Limerick. Apparently a pub song or tavern chorus based on the refrain "Will you come up to Limerick?" where, of course, such bawdy songs or 'Limericks' were sung.

Limericks - The form
Limericks consist of five anapaestic lines.
Lines 1, 2, and 5 of Limericks have seven to ten syllables and rhyme with one another.
Lines 3 and 4 of Limericks have five to seven syllables and also rhyme with each other.

Limericks - A Defence - Shakespeare even wrote Limericks!
Admittedly the content of Limericks can often verge on the indecent, the dirty, or even the obscene, but they make people laugh! Limericks are easy to remember! Limericks are short and no great talent is necessary to compose one - Limericks are a form of poetry that everyone feels happy to try (especially when inebriated!). Limericks as a form of poetry has survived the test of time dating back for centuries! And whilst the poetic and literary skills of Shakespeare are not necessary for the composition of a limerick the great Bard himself did in fact write limericks which can be found in two of his greatest plays - Othello and King Lear.


Limericks

There once was an old man of Esser,
Whose knowledge grew lesser and lesser,
It at last grew so small
He knew nothing at all,
And now he's a college professor.

There once was a lady from Hyde,
Who ate a green apple and died,
While her lover lamented,
The apple fermented,
and made cider inside her inside.

A mouse in her room woke Miss Doud
Who was frightened and screamed very loud
Then a happy thought hit her
To scare off the critter
She sat up in bed and just meowed

There was a fat turkey named Sam,
Who gobbled whenever he ran.
He came out of the bush,
Presenting his tush,
And was shot up the arse by a man. (!!!!!)

There was a young lady from Niger,
Who smiled as she rode on a tiger.
After the ride
She was inside,
And the smile was on the face of the tiger.

There once was a poet named Dan,
Who's poetry never would scan.
When told this was so,
He said, "Yes, I know"
"It's because I try to put every possible syllable into the very last line that I can" !!

I've been studying all night and I'm tired,
But I can't sleep because I'm so wired.
So I'll play on the net
'Stead of going to bed,
And my tests will seem a quagmire. (HAHAHAHA)

There was a young maid from Madras
Who had a magnificent ass;
Not rounded and pink,
As you probably think---
It was grey, had long ears, and ate grass. (raised eyebrow)

There once was a lady named Lynn
Who was so uncommonly thin,
that when she assayed
to drink lemonade,
she slipped through the straw and fell in!

A wonderful bird is the Pelican.
His beak can hold more than his belly can.
He can hold in his beak
Enough food for a week!
But I'll be darned if I know how the hellican?

There once was a young man of Trinity
Who found y^e root infinity.
But y^e digits
Gave him infinite fidgits,
So he dropped math and took up divinity.

There once was a fellow named Clyde
who went to a funeral and cried.
When asked who was dead,
he stammered and said
I don't know, I just came for the ride.

A canner exceedingly canny
One morning remarked to his granny
A canner can can
Anything that he can
But a canner can¹t can a can, can he?

okay..... I supose that's enough....hope you guys enjoyed reading these!






Sunday, February 25, 2007

Thank you, WBCs!

This post is to thank my White Blood Corpuscles.
I am immune to a lot of common 'diseases' that my friends normally are attacked by. And as I was studying Biology, I realised that if I have to be grateful for everything that I've got, why not start with my WBCs?
Thank you, WBCs, for protecting me and fighting the ghastly bacteria that threaten to eat my insides away.
And, of course, my platelets.:D:D
I think, with the innumerable times I've got cuts, I wouldn't be typing out these words if it weren't for my platelets. Thanks for clotting my blood and preventing me from bleeding to a gory death.

I think it's a good thing that something like Biology has inspired me to write. So I guess it wasn't a waste of time after all.

Yes, Bio has gotten to me. Don't be shocked if I start thanking Electricity for being there, before my Physics exam. Nuh-uh.

:D:D:D I hope you all are thanking your WBCs and other things too. Charity starts at Home, and your body is the Home of your soul. So be good to your body, it'll be good to you!:D:D:D

signing out....Jozie

*Fill in the blank*

I'm confused. VERY confused.
A lot of things are going on in my mind and I don't think they should right before a Biology exam.... Just taking a break and for some reason i didn't feel like writing it down in my Diary (how confused i am, i mean) and i don't even care about the fact that my "i"s aren't in block. It's just this weird feeling.... and it's not even nervousness or exam fever, i wouldn't even consider this feeling to be of pre-exam fright. To clear out your minds, it's not a feeling of "Love" for anybody. it's more of an uncomfortable feeling, and it's actually making me feel lethargic and also making me mix up my "i"s with my "e"s.
I don't have butterflies, i don't feel itchy all over, I don't have nausea(even if i do, i never puke), i haven't lost my peripheral(sp?) vision.....so i don't really think it's anything medical. SO WHAT THE HELL IS IT!?!?!?!?!
Ugh! i don't even know why i'm writing this...and i'm not even feeling negative....in fact, i'm very positive that the tricuspid valves are in the right side of the Heart(er....?).
it has already been ten minutes and all i've written is this. reviewing the day, there seems to be nothing that bothered me or stirred up emotions or thoughts of any kind, except, of course, my French paper which was in fact extremely good and all the thoughts it brought about were drowsy ones.
i just realised i'm not even....ugh, i'm too tired to explain..
Wait...THAT'S IT!!

I'm sleepy.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

P.S.: to all my friends who read through this, i apologise for putting you through so much agony at the end of this post. Trust me, your pain did NOT exceed mine. And another thing, the lameness of this post was not intentional, i just thought i'd write it down, surprisingly not in my Diary, but on my blog, and i think it helped, i know that i'm zzzzzzzzzz......

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Random Thinking

This is only a random post about anything that pops into my mind.


"Dearest, Sweetest, Darkest, Most challenging and Most Memorable Memories,
I am sorry I haven't paid a visit to you lately. I shall, once I have the time. You hold all of my life."

Every passing second is but a memory. I have realised that they, whether Good or Bad, make us relive the times that are unforgettable. Good memories are cherished forever, and that's what I love about them. Bad memories always, inevitably, teach us something new. And that's what I love about them.

I am not a perfectionist. In fact, I'm miles away from it. Don't get me wrong, I love being imperfect. It gives me the feeling that I am still Human. Every time I do something perfectly, I never actually get overwhelmed by it.

Why? Why should we be perfect? Why is it that, if we are considered 'social butterflies', as we call them, we can't miss a party or remain quiet or alone for a while without getting showered by What-happened-to-you-s? Why is it that we have to hide it if we like something everyone else hates? Why do we say we're independent in thinking and yet do only what others think right? Why do we care what people around us would think if we laugh out loud? WHY .. WHY .. WHY!?!

Today, was the last PE class of Eighth Grade, of Middle School, and, for the people who chose the Science stream, THE LAST REAL PE CLASS OF THEIR LIFE! While most of us enjoyed it to the fullest, there were people moping about, sitting, crying and generally not thinking about what they were going to miss. We were at the Volleyball court playing Throw ball. Of course, there are people who can't throw the ball to save their life, but they played all the same. Yet, there were a group of people who were sitting down and watching everyone else. When asked why they were doing so, they said it was embarrassing for them to play because they played so badly.

WHY?????

Situations are only embarrassing if YOU think they are. YOU might think that people laugh at you, but friends tease each other, right? It's plain, simple fun. I remember once we were having Lunch and we were seated in the Swimming Pool area. Just as I finished, I sneezed and the leg of my chair broke. Everyone had a plain view of me and started laughing. I was not embarrassed. What hurt me was that my friends sat there and laughed at me, and did not ask whether I was hurt (physically, that is). But no, I was NOT embarrassed. Because I chose not to think of it as embarrassing.

What I'm trying to say is, don't think your Life depends on what other people think. Because it doesn't. You know what it depends on.

Thanks. To those who got through the whole rant. And the "Memories" part was just a what-do-you-call-it.

:D:D

PS: I have a 'memory box'. It's where I keep all the material things that are heavy in memories. It has a distinct smell, and I call it 'The smell of passing time".

Never Again...

Ahem.
Sorry. About the last post, I mean. Any of you who know me must know that I get like that sometimes. Okay, a lot of times. I just....don't do it that often now.

To Nishant, you'll never hear that from me again. To Rhea.....you're right, it does suck the most when one criticizes oneself. And no, I won't let a bad day stifle my creativity. Again, that is.

Thanks. You know who.

Jozieeeeeeeeee

Monday, February 19, 2007

I HATE.......

I hate myself.
Oh, and, I hate everything around me. And everyone.. And I swear this is NOT, I repeat, NOTNOTNOT to get any kinda bullshit sympathy out of anyone.

I don't know if any of you have ever felt that way. But if you intend to read on then you'd get to know. I don't think my reason would be justified though.

The truth is, my dreams are shattered. What I wanted to be, what I thought I was good at, every single thing that I told myself I could do..... it's all just...gone. I don't even think I ever knew who I really am.

I kept thinking I'm a very passionate writer. I realise now that that's all bullshit. I can't write any better than my teddy bear can. Everyone writes better than I do, and I now realise it. I thought I had a flair for words, but it turns out I can't make 'type' and 'hype' rhyme. I thought....I was creative. But I'm the most dull person you can meet.

I kept thinking I could sing well. Sure, I needed practice, but I still thought I had the talent. But that also, was wrong. WRONG, WRONG, WRONG...... and everyone knows that, courtesy my effed-up performance on C-Day.

I kept thinking I could dance well. But who wants to see a big blob of nothing jumping around? Not me. Not you. Not anybody.

I kept thinking I was a good photographer. But if you'd seen the pictures I've taken, you would make a mental note to snatch the camera out of my hands every time you saw me with one.

I know you guys might think I'm over-reacting, or you might say I don't realise that everyone has bad days. Answer this.... How can you say that when everyday that I can remember getting a prize, was ALWAYS a bad day? I mess up EVERY BLOODY DAY!

I can't cope with my uselessness. I don't even know why I have a blog anymore. I should just forget about it and click that little button....'DELETE BLOG'. Wish I could delete myself. I really do feel like the error that the Almighty, who never makes a mistake, finally made.

Feel free to comment, but honestly, I don't see how it matters anymore. You guys' criticism will just confirm my absolute nothingness.

Whatever.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

I Don't Think It's Love

This is a poem I wrote at 10:00 pm on the 13th of February. It was written for....all you people out there who can relate to the poem. I'm sorry it's late, but....okay, I don't have an excuse. Here I go.

I'm bumping my head on my bed
every morning,
I forget to brush my teeth.
I'm singing in the shower
and slipping on mats,
I play with my food, I don't eat.
I'm still knocking down glasses,
when I get a feeling in my gut
I know I'm thinking about only one person
But i don't think it's Love.

I try climbing trees and always fall down
and yet I'm giggling away.
I don't see why I'm happy,
neither do others,
But I have a smile on my face all day.
I'm still dropping books on the floor
when I get this feeling in my gut
I know only one name crosses my mind,
But i don't think it's Love.

The ones who care, think I'm hiding something.
The ones who don't, think the same.
Don't get me wrong, the rest of you.
I'm not playing some sort of game.
I may be hugging teddy bears,
I may be drawing hearts,
I may be dancing ballet on the streets,
But...I don't think it's Love.

What is it then, you ask me.
To tell you the truth,
I'm not really sure.
I know it's a feeling,
a deep feling,
right from my very core.
It may be Happiness.
Maybe I don't care
I may just be growing up.
Whatever it is,
it's making me feel grand.
But i don't think it's Love.

Tell me how you guys like it, I'm open to criticism and, of course, compliments. But i want to let you all know that it's basically the idea i want to give out. Hope you all had a good 'V Day' and I hope you know you don't need to wait for it to come to love someone. OR to declare your Love.




Sunday, February 11, 2007

Chikki, Tanvi, Cutie pie!



My cousin, Tanvi, or Chikki, as we call her, is the cutest thing i have ever seen. No, really. I don't know whether it's true for you guys out there, but seeing her picture you can't help but admit that she has got a smile to die for.

She came here, with her mom, who is my Masi (My mom's sister), on the 23rd of December 2006. A truly historic event in my life. I can happily say that the happiest day of my life was when Chikki was born. And she was finally here! I could finally coochie coo her in my arms!
My family and I, in Dubai, have watched her grow up from nothing in her mom's tummy, to the beautiful one-year-old she is now. And on web cam, too. So imagine what joy she spread as soon as she entered our house.

The first thing i noticed about her were her eyes. These beautiful star-like eyes, i came to know later, were the first thing that anyone noticed about her. And of course.....the smile. When she smiled, she managed to get anyone in the gloomiest possible mood smiling.

From the very first morning of their visit, i realised that i was to be woken up by Chikki lightly hitting my head and then finally toppling over it(my head, i mean) and then staying in that position till i woke up. This was a fantastic way to start my day. No sarcasm, i swear. After she had woken everybody up, she'd run around the house in her squeaky shoes. She took her first step in Dubai, and i will never forget that. It was on the second day of their visit.



The thing i remember most about her was that she'd always try to look cute when anyone reprimanded her for some naughty thing that she had done. For example, if she'd spilt something on the floor and we'd yell "Chi-ikki-i!!", giving her name four syllables, she'd look at you innocently and smile a very guilty but cute smile...you know the type. And that always worked.

She LOVED Red Bull. I am not kidding. She caught me drinking it one day and she snatched the can away from me. She took a glug(i have NO idea how) and gave me a dazzling smile. I just stared at her in disbelief. She also had a hip flask, which she carried around everywhere. Makes you wonder what the next generation is coming to:P:P.
I miss her a lot. She illuminated the house with her laugh and brought the roof down with her cries. I look at pictures of her visit and i inevitably start crying. Take me to be a softy if you like, but she's my sister and i love her to death.

I wish she wouldn't grow up. She might not like me when she does. That's my only fear. Oh well, I'll have fun with her while i can.




Tubelightish or not?


I would think not.
For those of you who care, hullo and welcome to a particularly late "new post". I have not been able to write for a long time for reasons that will be clear after you read what I am going to write on my "Blog Post Writing Spree". I am, of course, going on this spree because I am bubbling over with things to write about. What needs a special mention, which is one of the reasons for this tubelightish behaviour of mine - actually the main reason- is the arrival and departure of my Aunt and Cousin. Those of you who notice such things, might have noticed a change in the way i'm writing. If you observant people have read P.G. Wodehouse, you'll know where i'm coming from. I am telling you, he's a comic genius.

And so the Blog Post Writing Spree begins.

Ooh, i felt i must warn you....please don't get too expectant about the frequency of my reports because i will only be able to write when i get to saturation point after studying each day. It'll be a getting-a-word-in-edgeways kind of thing.

What a gran opening to my Blog Post Writing Spree. Sniff.

Let's leave them boogie!