Ramblings of a madman

     There is not a more imbalanced town in all of the UK than the town of Alston, when it comes to Men:women ratio . Perhaps its half namesake 'Bere Alston ' might stake claim of it. Together they have the most imbalanced Men:Women ratio (17:1) Women are rare commodity at Alston. Even the lads at the town wanted to address this issue and they set up a website appealing for the regeneration of the society at Alston. Vincent Pearle was one among them. "Hey Vinnie isn't time for yer work at the market" his dad, Tim pearle shouted at him. "Aye dad! yee mind yer own, I knaa" said an annoyed Vinnie. Who left the place as his mam was yelling " Hey pet! Take yer breakfast pet!" Tim was very worried about Vinnie, as he was growing restless and lonely day by day "Look how wor laddie is taakin" . It has been a long time since they had a father and son time.    Vinnie was working as an accountant in one of the meta...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 12 ; the twelfth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . A wish can be interpreted in two ways or may be even more. One way is wishing for stuff both tangible and intangible. If I start writing about these wishes, it wouldn’t end for eternity. So I am not going into all of this. The other one is wishing others. This may be a “Good morning” tweet or a “Good Night” tweet which gets endlessly tweeted and retweeted or wishing someone else at college or at work place. But “wishing” has taken a new level with “Politicians” and “Film stars” Let us take an example of a politician. This wish is for Mr S. Ramadoss the above wish is loosely translated into English as “ O bright light of the Thamizh race (also rays ) Please come! Please come! ” After the highness himself, it’s the rising son ☼ Mr Anbum...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 9 ; the ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . It was the summer holidays. That time of the year when little children waged war with each other, interestingly though, only with bat and ball. “Hey! Nikumb, get the ball” His teammates yelled at him as the ball fell into one of the houses surrounding the ground. Nikumb was distraught as it was yet another match were he didn’t bowl. Moreover, it fell into Radhika Aunty’s house, that is one more reason why he refused to go. They somehow pressured him into to getting the ball. The deal was, by doing so he would get a chance to bowl in the next match. The first impression you make lasts longer than you think. When he was given the ball in his first match he ran in like Akhtar and bowled at the pace of a Venkatesh Prasad's slower one. He batted like Glen McGr...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 6 ; the sixth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . “30 minutes more. Quick get your act together” the invigilator shouted as our Protagonist was in Trans, thinking. Within 30 minutes, whatever college life has left in him will dry like dew facing the sun. Let me tell you about our protagonist, Hari. He is a guy with all the bad luck loaded on his side. He was born on 31-12-1987 at 11.59 pm, missing the leap year by a whisker. “Mr. Madan you have a son” said the nurse. “I should go to Tirupathi, Thanks nurse”, Madan thanked her and started praying. The next minute his Mother dies and his dad’s Tirupathi trip was now to mortuary. He was absolutely pathetic when it came to academics; flunked 2 years in school; always a menace to his father. Current Status- 3 arrears to clear and that’s a...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 5 ; the fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . Disclaimer which actually claims something: The characters in this post exist only in this freak’s think tank if you find them in any water tank or temple tank or your Fishville tank or another place for that matter would like to meet them “Your time is up; my time is now now; U can’t see me; my time is now” *alarm rings* My world was awake but i was half asleep. I asked with my mouth which smelled closely to a concoction of rotten egg and onion, still dreaming about my job “ One coffee assistant”. “The guts you have, Keshu your time is really up and John Cena ain’t going to save you” As I heard my mom sound the warning bell I rushed to the bathroom; downloaded everything I uploaded last night (you must know what i mean) and rendered the bacteria homeless by...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 3; the third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton .     Indian Dream is pretty "complicated" like a Facebook relationship status. Summing up the dreams of more than a billion people ain’t easy. But, I had as usual two too conflicting views, one from Venkey (better half) and another from mankey (bitter half). To sum it up for you to decide there is Sri Sri Great Great Fake Fake Swami Venkatanda. Venkey Says “The dream of person, who earns daily wages, lives in a hut and doesn't get food to eat is; eating a nice meal 3 times a day; sending his children to school; to build a good roof to stop the rain water seeping and the sun beating down. Then there is the salaried middle class man who has all the basic amenities he needs; food, water and shelter. But is greedy a...