The prime foolhardy of youth is to go against the grain. The rush and the thrill! And you’ll feel it every time you come across a breakthrough story of another rebel. This would reassure your course, reinforce your belief on the goodness of your pursuit and you’ll be really rejuvenated.
Food should be tasty. And tasty food must be delicately prepared. Hypothetically, it requires an effort to prepare a descent meal.Continue reading “Budalangi, chaos in the kitchen”
I want to say thank you for all the the support in the past year. And am most grateful that you were there to make sure I wrote something interesting worth your attention. Still, I hope you’ll stick around for the amazing stories 2019 will bring our way.Continue reading “Thank you, dear readers”
He had watched people like me come and go, many times over. I could tell from the way he looked at me. At that time however I looked past his knowings, and my poor acting; I really needed a way out. It was already getting dark. I was sure to have seen them that morning. Whatever went wrong I couldn’t tell.
No am not. Then why do you write mean stuff? Mean in what way? Just that they are always tied with or rather they are full of mockery emotions. That’s just a way of writing, my style. What style? Satire. Sar-ta what? Yes, see when you write like that they say you are satirical. In writing [and speech], it is mockery [
a style of using mockery] on certain behaviors or things in a humorous way in a way to show the bad side of it, lightly. Most times it may look like you are mean, utterly stupid or plainly mad [insane].
I was chatting with one of my biggest readers the other day and this topic came up so I thought to clear it out to the rest of you dear readers.
“With such an ass my guy, you’ve the jackpot,” It was Chonjo. I sipped my bear, listened and watched.
I had arrived at the CRANKIE’S twenty or so minutes ago. Had intentionally chosen not to bring any company. It was now quarter to nine.
So last month it’s been raining; cats and dogs, dogs and rats. I can’t complain on the rain but I can express my displeasure on its timing, can’t I? First thing first, it has to f**king stop.
We had to wait a little longer for the bus to fill up before leaving the station. At last! I breathed out a hurrah. I could almost see myself home. And for once there was no ‘javelin crew’ holding on the rails, at least for now. Easy. The misters had so long settled and now people were occupied with their own stuffs. Continue reading “Instead I stayed [III]”
Among the 5 people I had counted last, two passengers caught my attention. Am sure the rest of the bus had also noticed them. For conversations hushed for a second or two the moment they stepped into the aisle. And the mesmerized glances followed them as they fumbled with their odd luggage to their seats. Continue reading “Instead I stayed [II]”
Everything about matatus (buses, vans and everything that looks like one) can be fun but not entirely. Talk of the music and I’ll give you an eight, on the radio stations most of you would give me a four – no lie, a sober trusted friend had confessed. On my part I would’ve voted way lower than that perhaps a two.