Marc-sist Column
Genius. Genius. Genius square. Not quite. 37. Genius happy. Not as square. Rounded. Security code orange. Scary. Crazy. Random. Yet kind of philosophical. In a seemingly illogical sort of way. And yet more rational than most. Disturbed. Ecologically balanced. Twice over the meaning of life, the universe and everything. 84. Just that. Love. Crazily fast biking. Sun burn. Chennai. Choco Berry Bang. The ring. Frodo Baggins and Gandalf. Blink is a color. The only one worth having. Dry eyes. Like ice, but more verbal. CO2. Vehicular exhaust. Taliban style head-wrappings. Scary again. Oxygen. Two lakes and a share auto. Heart to heart. Clubbin. Ace of spades. A little gleaming metal. A little super-compressed carbon. Silks. Silken. Absolute tandem. Destiny supreme. Thrice the dec, and then a three, a three and the first of primes. Marc.-
Generally Genius-er
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Ignorati Blurts
golappan on About me srisarts on The ruins of Hampi. chewmysambhar on Pheelings based Jerenus on Pheelings based JJJ on Pheelings based -
Genius Dribbles
Thought Factory
arc books. chaos chennai conversations dsp exams experience family festivals foreign friends hope life life love random love marciv mark markiv matter me movies music my fiction opinion photons poetry politics quirks rain random randomness review. signal signa processing Simple reflections sine stupid tag thoughts stringed wave-
Tag Archives: family
Festive words
There came and went a Diwali. Like they say, a lot of things come and go. Bygones, alright? Bygones stand bygones forever because we owe much to the imposing change. I exalt permanence since I know why bygones cannot be … Continue reading
A series of unfortunate events
So I will wake up for a new semester tomorrow. Thats not just the only news I have got for you. They say brats are not made, but born -Like this cousin of mine who came home today. We were … Continue reading
For Appa,who matters
He was used to the routine night shift. Home beckoned. With it , the visage of his tiny replica in the form of a baby girl veiled his vision. Trotting his infamous two wheeler and home way bound, “Twenty three … Continue reading
Soul Curry!
Sometimes all that I want is my past. I want all the flooded memory gates to open up, the vistas broadened and Life to go back the way it used to be. Change is what cannot be changed -Is that … Continue reading
Some coffee confab.
“Appa, adhu ennadhu?” The four year old girl with transparent eyes and interrogative eyebrows looked up expectantly at her father. He seemed to be in deep thinking but churned his pupils to attend to that little girl, the girl the … Continue reading
