Robin Tales

Thinking.. Thinking.. Thunk! How and when did i discover *that*, i have no clue. I am sure it was one of those nuts that i am going to talk about. But honestly, as you read the title, i am sure you thought of a few crazy crack people who made your life so difficult at some point of time, that you could spend a million bucks to buy a book on *1001 ways to crack a nut* I met quite a few, the hardest one being the oldest. Yea its my best friend.(to kill me... ok just don't. Please!) He drives me crazy with his wrong apparently comic timing. Things i hate about everyone else, form his innate habits. Super Hyperactive with no patience to let the other person talk most of the times. Listening to other people happens to him only when he breathes (which is so rare i am scared he would choke up to his food.. i guess he has mastered the art of breathe-as-you-talk asana) I think he secretly times his body clock to race with a passing train, if cook a dish in 5 minutes is what a recepie says,

Huirting your middle finger is not a good thing to happenb. i am not happy abnout it. (This is what i typed first when trying to use my *hurt* middle finger. I suppose the reader, too, now is hurt *intellectually so as to have read this piece of pure art* ) I was doing my regular business when this happened, you know, nothing. So, while i was busy doing nothing, i thought hitting the keyboard for fun. A few words jutted out of my computer screen but *ouch* ! I sensed something was wrong and noticed blood oozing out of right hand. My middle finger was hurt! Worse, I don't remember hurting it! Blood on my hand, I could see stars on my office ceiling. With the aid of a strip of cloth branded Band-Aid (God it makes my finger go numb!), i rest in my place at peace for the rest of the day, *trying* to manage my chores without using my middle finger. Just as people were thinking how i am going to do my work without my stupid little hurt finger, I was wondering what all i couldn't do,

The major cover-up of an individual could be no other than that of one's fears. Just as the male do it for they consider it to be their weakness, the woman, so strong in no sens to the muscular brigade, has a different story to tell. Each one has millions of thoughts running through them in random order. Imagine putting them all on a canvas. Between those many lines of thought that she carries, there is a hidden secret. This woman falls in love with someone. She thinks its a mirror, then goes on to believing it was her imagination, that person. She loves to the extent of standing true to the saying, 'Truely, Madly, Deeply' in love. Soon the characters involved in this story come alive with the love itself being the figment of imagination here. The strength of a woman is unknown to anyone, men and other women alike. Someone told me, a woman who comes out very strong, is trying to defend herself very hard to not get affected by any outside force. A woman will be all the emot

A holy place, a place within transposes thoughts to a halo so sacred, so wanted, so blurred saying a prayer to t he greatest heart but beware, as he does not listen to you the Prayer Man is the one to help you tell him what you want & what you dont you wish, your dream, fears & foes the one who has mastered this art will pass on your prayer to the Creator's heart so then, starts the process of passing messages one accepted one resigned the mysterious glow from the holy spot blinds all, the believers & the believe-me-nots the Prayer Man, finally, pleased with his work thanks the Almighty for the blessings pot and decides to pray one day for himself when the light disappeared the sound deafened the body cold and the breath lost