Showing posts with label Week 1. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Week 1. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Scent of a Woman || Perfume by Priyanka

“Sugar, Spice & Everything Nice…” such goes the list of ingredients for a lovely girl. Ask anyone, even the hobo living in a cardboard box, everyone agrees: A Girl Always Smells Nice.
Nice? You mean like peaches & bergamot or lavender & honey?? I’m a girl and I demand an answer?!!
My favorite scent remains to be that of musty old books in the attic. Or of rain, just before it rains. Or of winter… when your breathe freezes fogging up your view of the sunset. Or like cheese oozing from a double burst pizza! Or like babies who have been squeaked clean and dressed up in pinks & blue, just perfect for a day in the park!!
But you never get these in a bottle in any store! Hmmm…
You know what all of it reminds me of? Home. My Mom.
Each time I return home for a few days, I pause for a moment before I enter. I fill up my lungs with the air outside, with all its smells… dust, grime, exhaust, litter… and then step in.
When I take in my next breath, it’s like being reborn…
They tell you about how when you hear a song that you once loved in the past and have it instantly bring you back to that moment in time? I think whenever I smell anything nice, I go back in time to this moment:
Entering my home again… right into the arms of my mom!
When you look around and notice how nothing has changed, everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same; you realize what’s changed, is you.
~The books, aging gracefully, even with the silverfish scurrying across… right as I’d left them in the box last year. The colorful pages which mom read out when I knew no difference between a and z
~The drops on my forehead as I run to cover, leaving mom drenching in the rain; struggling to save the achaar instead of herself
~The steaming cup of tea not helping keep my fingers warm enough, I snuggle next to mom as she keeps down her cup and hugs me
~The doorbell rings and it way before it’s been 30 mins, mom beats me to the door. The wide grin on her face as she opens the pizza make me wonder, “Who’s the kid here?” No one, or both of us?
~The Johnson’s Baby Soap mom still keep in my bathroom... willfully forgetting her daughter is older than she was when she bought the first bar for her first-born
That’s it according to me…. The ingredients of the perfect perfume for any woman:
Niceness inside-out.
Sweat, blood, tears, sleepless nights and aching muscles, slain dragons and dying dreams, birds leaving the nest or just stopping by for a moment… it all has to go in, without an ounce of dishonesty.
Love you mom!

Life in Slow Motion ||Gone in 60 seconds by Priyanka


WARNING: Extremely long story, capable of testing your knowledge of Pop-culture, patience and sanity on multiple levels. Not recommended for novices.


Sango came into being just as everyone else around her; nothing new in being thrown onto Mother Earth on account of the parent over-eating beyond herself!

As she was growing up, Sango’s mom started slowly drifting away, and then the inevitable moment came when as Sango looked around for that familiar comfort of her mother, there was just the sea of nudges and shoves. The neighbors, instead of bad-mouthing her mom for maternal negligence, instead pooh-poohed her as a sissy. No-one in their knowledge had latched on to her mother for as long as she did!


“What a disgrace of a progeny!” “Good for the poor mother, she practically had to run away. These kids I tell you…”


There was no way out: She had to go about her life in search of safety, livelihood and more. She was now capable enough to fend for herself; she had done well to learn how to hunt for food, which region to slurp water from, which places to rest for the night, how to mix herself into the crowd and how to avoid the stout fellows everyone called Grinches.
“They would hurt you if you go too close, or if they’re in a bad mood,” her mom had once told her.


But Sango still missed having her mom. She was the one with the answers to the endless stream of questions swirling within her, waiting to burst out, as if. No one wanted to stop and talk in this world… it was such a task!


“How does night replace daylight and then daylight replace night without fail? Where does the food go once she eats it? How does it feel to love someone? What lies beyond the Forbidden Sea? Why is she where she is? Where is she? What will happen next?”


Thinking of all the questions without getting a single answer made her wish she never was. Her life seemed totally pointless… eating, drinking, walking and sleeping. How could she have been created without a purpose?


“When will this end?!!”


She was walking along in another one of her seemingly pointless journeys, towards the food-rich plains when she suddenly bumped into someone. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you”, she said to the fellow she’d knocked down. The guy looked at her smiling wistfully, said “Oh no, it was me. I am just so over this pointless life... I just want it to end being so boring.”
Sango grabbed the stranger tightly, “ME TOO! I’ve been thinking the exact same thing!!” He managed to mumble a few words, by now almost squeezed to choking, before Sango took the hint and introduced herself.


“Hi Sango, I’m Three. I’m on the way to the end of the world, care to join me?” What more could she ask for, except another question: “Oh, hi Three! How do you know you are on the right path?”


“I have drawn myself a map standing at the top of the Blue Mountains. Have you ever been there?”
“No. How long will the journey take?”
“I have no idea. But I would rather spend my life reaching there than sleeping through. Won’t you too?”
“Where is your mother?”
“She left, like all moms. Didn’t yours leave!?”


And thus cross-questioning each other, they started walking off from the crowded city-streets together. Sango had found a friend. Three didn’t just answer her questions, but he asked her even greater ones!


Her life finally had a purpose.


Endless days they walked and walked as per the map Three had. They discussed their lives, their dreams and their questions.
“You know how does the light suddenly go out and night falls? It happens in a definite pattern. After every 3 cycles of day-night there are 2 nights. Ever noticed? ” “No Three! Never!!! How did you?” “I know something is going on, Sango. I just need to reach the Forbidden Sea to get a clear view of what’s beyond.” 


Someone overhearing would have branded them heretics, but they had out-casted themselves from society before anyone else could.


“Three..” “Ya?” “You’re so amazing! I never thought I’ll find someone to love, ever”, Sango said one day. “Have you gone mad! You know love is nothing, it’s a lie!! We’re both independent, self-sufficient beings… we’re together just because our goals are the same!” That was the only time Three had shouted at her. Sango never broached the topic again. 


Her mom had told her about Love... it was rare, but it wasn’t a lie.


They covered harsh ground covered thinly with grass, hurting their feet even as they walked. They barely had enough water to keep their throats from drying out, forget water. And then they came across an entire colony of Gremlins! Three held Sango very, very close to himself... even their breaths were synchronized, Sango could barely look towards him. 


She found herself thinking of Love once again.


As they crossed the colony safely, Sango saw an expanse of deep blue water. She ran towards it and suddenly found herself falling freely down towards it; dragging Three along! Those few moments till they crashed into the waters of the Forbidden Seas seemed so long… their entire life flashed before them… And just as they were about to hit the water, it happened:


Three turned to her & they kissed!


When they emerged from the water, Sango looked ecstatic. They decided to stay by the Sea itself as it was night again. Food was no problem and there were no Gremlins in sight. Three smiled at Sango as they slept off dreamily looking at each other.


With daylight came the discovery. There was nothing beyond Forbidden Sea.


Only a few paces from where Sango & Three had rested was The End. A solid which seemed stretching into nothingness. Three started climbing it up when he realized it was like a cover over their heads… it allowed the light to pass through but was just, endless.


“So this is it I guess,” Sango said.
“Yes, we’ve reached the end of the world. I bet we’re the only ones!” Three almost yelled as he jumped up & down.. Sango said, “But what next?”
“Nothing, this is a great place, food, water, safety. We stay here.. and love each other. Not that we are going to die, ever,” Three stated what Sango was waiting to hear forever.


Thus ends the story of the two inquisitive, love-lorn, Single-celled organisms being studied in the Microbiology lab at some University. They probably held the key to some drug-discovery which would save millions of lives, or earn the big-wigs billions of dollars. But such was the 60-sec peek into their lives… maybe they will go on to reproduce the un-conventional way… love makes the impossible happen each day!


And yes, they do live on forever, unless the student in-charge of the petri dish accidently heats it to a 121.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Perfume has reached : Hotel "RAWANDA"






sorry guys,

Perfume was the topic suggested to me but the case that i am referring to much more important than to have a write up over imaginary things!!!!

************************************************************************************

Hotel Rawanda : forget it, now remember : Hotel Golf
************************************************************************************

Date : 18/12/2010
Place: Abidjan
Country: Ivory Coast

Part I: Ivory Coast :

"somewhere on the other side of the globe,where the sand is as brighter as ours is, where people are the same as we are, where one third population stays below poverty line as ours is.......................................People are tortured, massacred and life is everywhere on streets in the form of blood, flesh ......

I am talking about Ivory Coast, small african country which is on the verge of another civil uprising again.
A country which earned its freedom in 1960 from french claws! Led by Mr.Houphouët-Boigny who ruled as president from independence in 1960, managed the balance of ethnic mix and religious sentiments of the ethnic groups cleverly and changed the face of this small african nation. Ivory Coast was the most developed african nation by the end of 70s with huge exports of cocoa, coffee. will you believe, Ivory Coast maintained its economic growth rate at 10% for 2 decades from 1960 to 1980. But it was followed by draught & further dissent which crippled the agriculture led economic growth and resulted in huge inflation and uprising of opposition. The old & feeble president died in 1993, & thus the one-time African success story was fraying at the edges.
The void space infuriated clashes over the succession for the presidential post!!!

Part II: Who's Who?

1) Laurent Gbagbo : Culprit

The president, a former history professor, became one of the first politicians to challenge the country’s first president, Félix Houphouët-Boigny. Imprisoned in the 1970s, he later lived in exile in France. In a hotly contested election in 2000 he ousted coup-maker Robert Guei. Repeated delays to planned polls allowed him to remain in office long after his term expired in 2005.

Illegally positioned himself as president from 2005 till date and has defied all attempts of international community to bring in peace in the nation.

2)Charles Blé Goudé : Butcher with Brain

One of Laurent Gbagbo’s most notorious supporters, Mr Blé Goudé’s Jeune Patriotes militia is able to draw thousands of armed men on to the streets. Mr Blé Goudé, who is known for his anti-French and anti-immigrant rhetoric, & his ability to rage anger against the non-ivorian ethnic groups, is under UN sanctions for his role in organising and leading anti-French and anti-northerner violence in the country in 2004.
He is the main aide in the problem.

3) Alassane Ouattara : Waiting for Justice
Former economist at the International Monetary Fund who served as prime minister 1990-93. A Muslim from the north, Mr Ouattara was barred from contesting elections after a court ruled that his mother was a Burkina Faso national. Draws support from northern region still held by rebels since the 2002-03 civil war and almost universally acknowledged abroad as the rightful president following last month’s polls.

Part III: Hotel Rawanda coming again!!!

U remeber, movie Hotel Rawanda in which Paul Rusesabagina (played Don Cheadle), the manager of the Sabena Hôtel des Mille Collines. the manager saves lives of people trapped inside the hotel which was surrounded by Hutu rebels who were searching Tutsi refugees to kill, or to massacre.
On the same line, there is a hotel in the city of Abidjan which is giving refuge to the presidential candidate Mr.Alassane Ouattara.
Name of the hotel is "Hotel Golf" http://www.golfhotel-ci.com/default_en.aspx

As per the reports that arrived yesterday, some 600 UN peace keeping soldiers were guarding the hotel from the militia of the president. As a precautionary measure they had put up razor wires all around the hotel & put up a tank at one of the corner of the hotel to retaliate any onslaught from rebel militias.....

Part IV: Are we expecting something ?

Nicolas Sarkozy, has tried his best, UN, USA are going to put up sanctions over Ivory Coast. Robert Mugabe tried to intermediate in the fray but failed. Entire african nations & the international community wants peace there...........wants the situation to be placated asap but is this possible?

Answer is in the future & which is uncertain.....Lets Hope for the Best!!!!

as it is said for the Ivory Coast warriors :
" It’s in their core: to fight to the death "
............
can it be changed as
"Don't fight, Live & Let Live!!!!

Courtesy:

wikipedia
todayonline.com
google images

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Gone is 60 seconds II vin says:"never believe in time"


time : 11:27 am
place: Bed no. 3, A-412, Symbiosis Infotech campus
Season : Holiday season

What next ????

yippppieeeeee, absolutely free & nothing to do!!!! thats why writing this page :P

I wana kill Ayon for this topic, gone is 60 sec???

i don't know what can be done in this lil span of time, absolutely nothing!

chalo, let me think about it and write something....

hmmmm....what can i think of in next 60 sec...time starts now...
mummy, bhai , tanu, allahabad, pune, chandigarh, kamlesh, manish, ayaon,
binu......phew...!!!(i could write this much in 60 sec, sad)

anyways, i will keep 6 mins in my kitty & feel it as 60 sec...

"it all started yesterday, with Manish Raghuvanshi...he has a basic problem of
something or everything stopping in his esophagus that is the food pipe, while gulping.
so we went to Aditya Birla Hospital for check up and endoscopy!

so all set for a hospital ride? yeah!

" Manish was given a small robe to wear before the process and then i was told that
its a matter of mints and it will finish off in 5-6 mins..i said OKK!

then the wait started, 5 mins, 15 mins, 25 mins............45 mins & phew, then after i lost counts............finally i asked the ward boy the whereabouts of Manish.
he replied in marathi, "aato re baba, 5 mins aur!!!
Finally, manish arrived,
almost unconscious, with oxygen pipe in nose & blood on the bed-sheet!!!!

i was amazed to see this and certainly worried about him,i was expecting him in better condition than this, he eyes were scantily open with loads of weary stretches over face as if he is in much pain......

i asked how are you,?

with little smile he answered,
"Buss Jaaan le hi lee thi, kisi terah se bachh gaya"

hmmmm, then there was a big laugh in the room!!!

you know, if you can smile in pain, you are the conquerer of the world..!
i mean it, alexander dint had this quality so he lost!!!!

************************************* *********************************************
finally we were done with all......returned back to base ie, Hostel and i came back with some teachings, lessons:

"Never believe in time"
when it says, 6o sec, it may be 60 mins !
so, keep in mind, if you allow time to dive you, you are gone...so try to bend time according to your wish!!

Learn to stand tall, when it is difficult to stand!

***********************************************************************************

finally will take another 60 sec to finish up things,

pakka i will write something good and will be prepared for the next topic!

ha ha ha !!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Writer's Block "can we break this Blockade?"...asks Vinod


Hi guys,

First of all, I apologize for my late response to the first topic....the reasons are many :

1. I was not well.
2. My lappi crashed.
3. I was upset with my galfriend going out for a movie, without me!!
4. I was not ready with some stuffs to put up here...........phew so many!!!!

Actually,

I am a laggard, lethargic and lazyness personified!!!!

well come back to "Writer's Block"!!!!

Comeon lets see, few headlines in newspaper for different places:

A) New Delhi
"18 year old gal, abducted and gang raped in a moving car in Mongolpuri area".

B) Pune
"Lady on a business conference in Lonavala, raped by the worker of Resort"

C) Pune
" MBA student from Balaji Society committed suicide last night"

hmmmm...........interestingly all incidents were related to gals!!!

sadly, in a country where Godesses are worshipped, where the source of power, source of education, source of wealth all are governed by Godeses......certainly its a
shame for our so called civic society!!

now lets see what was the difference between all three incidents:

Case I: New Delhi

"A gal was on the way to pick her mother from a factory in Mongolpuri industrial area alongwith her friend. Few drunk guys were going by their car n they put up ugly comments to her. she revokes against and finally an angry exchange of words happens.
then the guys decide to punish her!

the punishment is more than the Extreme Punishment....ie, RAPE!!!

I am so happy to see that those boys were brave and had guts to punish that gal....& i will come back to them at the end of this writeup.!

Case II : Pune/ Lonavala

A business executive visits a resort in Lonavala for business conference and interestingly, was allegedly raped by the workers over there.....

Kudos to workers who taught a lesson to that Lady who came over there alone for a meeting!!!

Case III: Balaji Inst/Pune

A young lady commits suicide because she was out of placements as her attendance was short....

Interesting case, suicide coz you are Red listed from placements, cool.......kudos to her brave effort!!!

************************************************************************************

Moral of the story so far:

a) Gals, believe it or not, Pune is as dangerous as Delhi is!!!

b) Bloody boys from Delhi/Pune donot have courage to face the challenges of life, so
to ease off frustration, targeting gals??? what a crap....God save us!!

I just believe, the convicts should not be put up behind bars, but actually they should be given capital punishment or even worse to put up an example!!!

c) Gals, dont be crazy behind money, getting job after MBA is not the end of it, but this is start of life...

everybody cant have a jump start straightaway.......but there are instances that once you ride the steep slope, you get the most gentle surface to walk upon!!!!

so keep your morale high.............be stronger!!!!

Advice to Management Instt......."Grow up guys,,,,don't act as a jailor but as a mentor who guides to success not suicides"

*************************************************************************************

All above instances, have shattered me, they blocked my head for a moment due to rush of thoughts!!!!

BUt, now the blockade is broken,,,,,,n my mind is free to abuse the convicts, f**k them up!!!! (sorry)

N i want all gals to feel free to roam, free to smile without fear!!!!!

Monday, December 13, 2010

Writers Block .. "Write for Change" || Susrita

"I never believed in writing. I mean whats the point in writing down something when you change your mind the next instant. And who is reading? People love to criticize. Why should I take hate for free? Writing is not important!"

My thoughts reflect a basic prejudice in the society. As humans we love oral communication. Many people resent the power of writing as they believe it will go unread. Or what they write will be subject to criticism. But have you ever noticed that when people become serious about communication, they want it in writing. Guess writing still is in more power than other forms of communication. The power of writing is accessible to anyone who desires. It requires no special talent, skills or experience -- only a willingness to explore moments of ecstasy and moments of despair, critical illness and crucial life choice, psychological healing and spiritual discovery.

I recently saw a movie on a real life education project. An amazing true story of strength, courage, and achievement in the face of adversity. In the fall of 1994, in Room 203 at Woodrow Wilson High School in Long Beach, California, an idealistic twenty-four-year-old teacher named Erin Gruwell faced her first group of students, dubbed by the administration as "unteachable, at-risk" teenagers. The class was a diverse mix of African-American, Latino, Cambodian, Vietnamese, and Caucasian students, many of whom had grown up in rough neighborhoods in Long Beach. In the first few weeks of class, the students made it clear that they were not interested in what their teacher had to say, and made bets about how long she would last in their classroom.

Erin however realized that her students were all too familiar with violence. She introduced each student to keep his or her own anonymous diary, recording tormenting stories of drug use, struggles with physical and mental abuse, and reactions to Erin and her unconventional teaching methods. From the moment they named themselves "The Freedom Writers," in honor of the Civil Rights leaders, the Freedom Riders, the students of Room 203 changed from a group of apathetic, frustrated students to a closely knit, motivated family. Many Freedom Writers were the first in their families to graduate high school and go to college.

The Freedom writers Diary was published in 1999. Erin and her Freedom writers started the Freedom Foundation. Writing reinforced the Freedom Writers' beliefs that voices can be heard, change is possible, and that their words have the power to affect people throughout the world.

Erin Gruwell & The Freedom Writers

Writer’s Block – An Urban Tale || Priyanka

A blank screen with three words at the upper left corner: Due at 11:59:59 PM.

A look at the time and Sara wipes her brow once again and lets out a sigh, which immediately freezes in the cold Brooklyn loft she shared with four other “wannabes”. 20 more minutes.


What to write?


The editor seemed really pleased with her portfolio. But then who wouldn’t be?


It was the perfect world in there: a series of stories on a Southern Belle who grew up on a sun-kissed ranch, went out on pony-rides alone since she was 6 and fell in love with the neighborhood’s most promising gentleman at 10. Thanksgiving dinners with a table for 40 and glittering Balls where she waltzed away with her Prince Charming till the moon went down.


She could write more of the same stuff… but her editor wanted something, what did she say? ... something.. “Un-Disney”.


She could write about being born without a father’s name, about a little girl waiting at the playground for her turn to ride the swing... a 10 yr old trying to make out the letters of her mother’s name in the ER where she was dying of being poor and cold and homeless. She might mention the poor orphan being sent to a school where she found more broken dolls like her, all broken beyond repair… how she learnt to find her way through the heartless world where no one was looking out for her. She could possibly also do something on a teenaged girl being pushed into drugs by a friend.. the nights full of colors floating around her... and her downward spiral from there to the day she sold off one of her kidneys to get high and.. to forget the pain.


No, but they would be too dark for a magazine audience. Something more inspirational maybe…


How about putting a turn on these grim storylines, yeah, that’s what they are.. uh-huh.. STORYLINES..!


The Southern Belle again.. she’s loses her father in a war and is heartbroken. Her family breaks up over property and she and her mother are homeless, roaming the streets of a big, bad city. The mother gets a job at a book shop and the girl gets into a school… she learns to read and write and becomes very learned till one day, she joins her own father’s company. And as she struggles to regain the lost empire, her mother dies a cold, lonely death in an ER.. no! Why bring an ER here.. it does not make any sense!


The writing needs a hint of romance.. yeah.. the childhood friend who promised he’ll always wait for her.. he joins her in the war against the evil cousins! And finally the day dawns when she returns to her family mansion and restores all the former glory to her mother, and lives happily ever after…


Another peek at the wrist watch with the broken strap and a shiver runs down her spine."3 more minutes. And I’m back on Disney-ness.. ugh!! I’ll never get this job… Let me turn in whatever @#$% I wrote.”


A week later, a package arrives at the doorstep of the run-down loft in downtown Brooklyn addressed to “Ms. Sara” .. it contained her letter of appointment as the columnist for Femme, a leading women’s magazine in the state and a cheque too.

Sara, needless to say was relieved. She could finally pay the rent for a better place and get away, not just mentally but also physically, from the druggies she had for room-mates.

She stepped out into the December snow, strangely feeling free of all the blocks she had in put up her mind. The blocks had been put up as a means to hold her past away from her present; but slowly over time, they began to take shape as her. They were the foundation for her future now... the building blocks.


She decided to go visit the father she never had at the mental asylum he was in. She stopped over at Joe’s for a turkey sandwich for him.. after all, Thanksgiving was only a few days past. 


"I do have a lot to be thankful for!", she said touching her lower abdomen.
______

The writer claims she completed the story in less than 20 mins and was suffering from a bad case of Writer's Block aggravated by a bout of runny nose. Rotten tomatoes (or other vegetables), therefore, are to be saved for later. More of such irrelevant stuff at http://pri-amble.blogspot.com/

Writer's Block || Ion

I don’t think I have stumbled upon a Writer’s Block, ever in life. But, sometimes I simply lose track of my ideas after I have written a line like “… I have absolutely no problems with spicy 'Kolhapuri' chicken. I'am just worried that the water in the pan might just come to a boil the next morning …”



For me a writer’s block is just one of those amusing things. Simply put, that’s because I am not a writer. I love to call myself a simple human being who’s partially in control of his senses in a way that serves his sanity with decent doses of pride and humility. So, sometimes when I’m too scared to wake up my roommates in the middle of the night to tell them about one of my “eureka moments”, I generally end up writing. That’s how I write, rarely and unexpectedly. But that is hardly the point of today’s discussion. So here is what I feel about a Writer’s Block.

When i try and think about a Writer’s Block, the first thing that comes to my mind is the image of a constipated poet. Something I call the there-but-not-quite-there phenomena. One can only imagine the frustration. But here I am, going through one myself, doing just that. It is a funny thing to have, really.


I usually try and think of nice words that will impress you with the very first line that you’ve read. And, not just nice words, they ought to be funny as well because I also have to collect those brownie points from you. But I’m still not there because apart from being nice and funny, these also have to have an aesthetic appeal so that they really gel well with the nice formatting that I have already thought of. And, Oh! It will be an add on if a few of these words also go by the English Dictionary, both individually as well as when arranged together in some form of a combination. Mighty difficult stuff, huh! And after having spent an hour or so on the very first line I have again done the inevitable: completely forgotten what the whole idea was all about. All in all, it becomes Jack Black’s rock show. CRAZY!


I am not a good reader either. Even though my reading exploits do cover a little more than the about me sections of peoples’ profiles on social networking sites, I have hardly ever looked beyond the sports section of the newspaper. The good thing about this is the fact that it hardly ever makes me feel guilty of having systematically murdered English language with sentences like “hw u doin ma man…” or “chck out tht rack man.. cmpltly dope! ” I mean, where are the Police? I don’t see any.


But even Will Shakespeare in the movie ‘Shakespeare in Love’ has been shown suffering from a Writer’s Block, but eventually ends up having an affair with the very hot Viola (played by Gwneth Paltrow). Not a bad deal, huh! So, there is hope, still!

But the best thing about going through a writer’s block is the fact that it leaves you with a chance to look life in the eyes and smile a few extra smiles. And all of this is only until a sudden avalanche of thoughts in your head gains enough momentum putting the constipation to rest.


So, I sincerely hope that you all have a great Writer’s Block!


cheers,
IoN

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Week 1 Challenge

Mods: Ayan & Vinod
Topics for this week :

  1. Writer’s Blog (Deadline: 11:59 PM, Monday, 13th Dec)
  2. Gone in 60 Seconds (11:59 PM, Wednesday, 15th  Dec)
  3. Perfume(11:59 PM, Saturday, 18th Dec)

Rules: Each participant will need to write a post on each of the following topics (number of words shouldn't exceed 1000, a maximum of two photographs and preferably of small sizes, can accompany each of your posts) please adhere to the deadlines given beside each of the topics. Please do not post an article if the deadline given for that particular article has expired.


Happy Blogging!

 
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