Smaller than Life
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Why a blog? Simple. Cacoethes Scribendi -- the urge to write! My literary pretensions and caprices bring me here. Like any writer I write to be read. All my posts, though fettered to my small world and trivially myopic, will live and yearn that somebody connects to them someday. Cognitive frenzies, sardonic musings, aimless banters, incoherent ramblings and trivial indulgences; this is simply an episodic narrative of my trivial world -- in a grain of sand… Smaller than Life.
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When I am dead, - Hillaire Belloc |
This is my letter to the world
Her message is committed - Emily Dickinson |
The thoughts of our past years - William Wordsworth |
Yours Truly
Name: Dileepan Lampoon me at: panvista@gmail.comOn the Stands My blog does not seem to be working. What the hell... Hanging up my boots! Thoppul is currently in my room challenging all my... My Best Four Years Why a Blog? Sheaves on the Shelf January 2011 December 2009 March 2007 August 2006 February 2006 November 2005 October 2005 August 2005 June 2005 May 2005 April 2005 March 2005 February 2005 January 2005 December 2004 November 2004 October 2004 September 2004 August 2004 July 2004 June 2004 May 2004 April 2004 March 2004 February 2004 January 2004 December 2003 October 2003 Buy my Book |
Tuesday, January 06, 2004
Taking Guard Before I write anymore, I feel I must clarify my stand and my perception of this blogging business. So far the readers of my blog (if any) will have seen me treat my blog only as a webspace where I post my essays and articles. Also, the essays till now have not had stray typographical errors (I hope!). I am beginning to feel more and more that I am wasting this golden opportunity to pen down anything and everything that crosses my mind by publishing eclectically the choicest articles alone. From now on I shall try to amend the situation and try to treat the blog as a 'blog' in the fullest sense of the term. The views that you may find from now on may be radical, even rabid. But I shall sanctimoniously not hold myself entirely culpable for to me they will just be a vent for my cognitive frenzies and hence only spasmodic spurts of mental abstraction. I shall not spare the blog henceforth of either my momentary frenzies or my 'emotions-recollected-in-tranquillity-the-cognoscente's-delight' kind of compilations.
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