The Eternal Optimist!

Today I sit before my p.c. hammering my brain for ideas. My blog has led me into the jaws of wolves that disguise themselves under the sweet name of ‘fans’. Their demand for more writings on the blog is about to turn me into a seasoned writer! However, when I opened this blog, I had no idea that it would be such a great success. The credit of my success goes to a person hereafter referred to as ‘One Certain Official ( OCO ) to whom I also dedicate this article revealing the secret of my success. As the title suggests, it was the famous battle fought over the post ‘300’ that carved out my literary empire. The warring parties - ‘one certain official’ from ‘one certain department’ of Goa University, pitted against ‘the protector of innocent, defender of the weak, man of ladies, patron of studies, the one and the only, the great, Jay Joshi . OCO took great trouble to shape my career as a writer and to demonstrate that freedom of expression can be challenged and crushed in a departmen

Dear mom, I don’t know how to sing your praise. I don’t have any abilities or caliber to please you by great achievements. All I know is that coming into your arms ends my worries. I may have at times failed to be by your side in great need due to my ignorance and laziness. For this, please forgive me for there can be an unworthy son, but a mean mother, never! Dear mom, in all our family, I was the only deceiver, liar, cheater, but for this, I have no fear of being forsaken for there can be an insane son, but an unkind mother, never! In pride of my young age, I deserted you, did not care to abide by your advice. Now when I face the cruel world, I know no other place to cry in but your arms. Now in my sad days, I don’t covet wealth and power or any kind of pleasures of life. All I want is to be by your side and to walk the way of life you taught me! Dear mom, I always remember you when in distress but in doing so I have no shame for a baby always cries for his mom when hungry

To most people, the word ‘friends’ brings a surge of excitement, love etc. but for me, ‘friends’ reads ‘alarm’. My mind and body become sharper then a commando, hair on my head stand up and panic fills my stomach. Trust me people, that’s what your reaction would also be if your friends were to throw you into ice cold water on every winter morning, or drag you early morning without breakfast into a forest full of leeches. These are only some of their atrocities. Not my fault. Not my fault at all but it’s the magic of that word ‘friends’ that compels me to be their slave! Oh how I loved my Royal life! With a book and a bed, P.C. and T.V. , spending holidays watching action movies curled in a couch that was my temple until… I began to hang out with them. My friends have made me rediscover myself. Thanks to them now I know that not only am I weak, skinny and under-confident, but also devoid of a sense of style and my communication skills are terrible with girls. ‘The builder’