details in life

It is just unbelieveable, or rather unexpected when little things in life give you that feeling of calmness, peace and genuine happiness. Sometimes, when they come across, you feel that you have been wasting away your life, by not taking time to enjoy those little details. You have been in a hurry all the time. One thing after the other. Thinking too much.
Worried.
If not worried, then planning the next thing, then not being able to fulfill it.
 Perhaps one should slow down. Certainly, one must do what one must, like carrying out responsibilities; at the same time MAKE time to do something simple. smily simple. Like a couple of people, who really got me thinking by what they did.

One evening I quickly popped in to my friends place on the way to a computer shop with him. His sisters told me about how they'd finished reading  the latest Harry Potter novel . The day they got it through post, they sat togethr and finished it at one go. The way they described it was what made me thinking of enjoying life. "You finished that many pages in a go? " I asked in amazement. " Yes!" they nodded. I asked them how. 'We sat together on the bed and read it together, keeping the book in the middle. We started at 3 pm in the afternoon and finished it next morning at 7 am!" , they giggled. Both of them are doing their MBA's and have a lot to sudy. they also work part time. And tey still managed to do find sometime to enjoy. Of course, it was a saturday and Sunday, but they made time.

Today, I was talking to one of my good friends whom I'd spotted walking with another friend, in the sun. I was talking to a teacher along with my friends whenI spotted them pass by. That afternoon, I asked her where they had been jay-walking in the college campus in the scorching heat. " We went to talk to the geese", she said. There were geese in the farther end of our campus. And she and the other friend had gone to talk to them. I didn't know what talking meant, but it struck me. They took time to just enjoy standing by the geese as, I found out later, they sometimes do. I wouldn't think of doing anything extra liek that during a lunch break I would be busy running around doing something or the other, or just sitting in one place and "relaxing" with the others around. And today, when I saw it, I wondered whether I had lived life to the max, so far.

I need to slow down, and take life easy. Do things when I have to, and enjoy when I can.

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Technology, distance and copy writing

Yesterday, I cam to fully appreciate the technology available to wannabe computer geeks like me.

My friend in a distant country contacted me through her friend saying that she needed a bit of help and that I ought to go online. That was an sms/text message.Thankfully, I was in a camp with a laptop which belonged to the organisation which was hosting the camp. This laptop had a net card enabling the users to use internet on the go. Perfect!
And I agreed to go.

When I met her online, a few minutes from then, she told me that she'd got a job in a company which demanded her to write advertorials! I became very proud of her. She struggled in the beginning with speaking and using colloquial English, while studying here in Inida. In three years, she became a pro. (That's a very inspiring story -never give up and work it off). she wanted me to check the editorial, edit it and suggest changes. No, I am not a preofessional copy writer but I'd some sense of it. I was humbled and accepted to help her. So online, s we chatted through windows messenger, she sent me the file containing her advertorial tvia email and I checked it and asked her question - What did you intend by this line? Who is the target audience? Where is it being put up? - All i real time. She sitting far away but both of us working and editting the same document and making changes real time. I know that technology enabled us to do this long ago, but then something as marvellous as this is a first for me. And I'm glad that I was of some help to that great friend.

From the back end of the book

This is what I wrote at the back end.

The back-end of the book is where I start from
That is because I am too shy, too embarrassed
To say, to show that this is me.
The words I wrote lie in the bin
The songs I write don't see day-light
Goals and expectations were never met
Till today, this soul remains mediocre.
Is it not too late? Or is it worth a try?
Why at all, if everything so far is a failure?
No progress, no sign, no silver lining;
Tunnels, long dark tunnels, as long as what seems eternity.
Here I sing, true to my grey feelings
The ones that always remained in the
shadows. Or is it?

Truth coming out

May be it is the effect of studying how thories of personality were constructed. I have begun to examine my personality more carefully. I have not stepped in to the unconscious yet, but it will happen soon... when I have loads of free time.

But one thing that have decided is to be true to myself. True to my thoughts, true to my feelings, true to what I really am. Remembering a story I read last year as part of the Literature course - A Kitchen in the Corner of the House. What am I when I strip myself off my friends, family, guitar, religion, balding head and the sometimes-confused looks and what others say? What is me? I have not dared to look at it that way, may be because it is a waste of time (At least that's what I thought).

From that totally stripped self, I wrote a piece of a poem in a book. A week later, I read it again and liked it - and that surprised me. Usually, I don't like what I write. But this time there was sense of calm and genuineness. (No, always I did write genuinely about my aspirations and feelings. But this one went deeper in just a few lines).

Let me be true. Let me go deeper and see who I am, within this skin. Let me meet me there. If Me is scared, let me go shake his hand, pat his back and say " What are you afraid of? Haven't you come this far? Isn't the one who brought you this far capable of taking you further? " A question easier to ask than answer.

Let me see.

BLACKOUT

BLACKOUT

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14th June

What an amazing sense of calm. The mind is moving slowly. The temperature at a comfortable level. Its night and I'm leaving all the limitations time has been imposing on me. Absense of friends. Absense of a class. Absense of togetherness. Alone in this room, which has been my shelter for the past two years. Coincidently, today it has become two whole years. Thank God. Grace and mercy has been showered upon me, which makes me forget all the hardships I had to go through. Leaving it all behind. Today's the previous day before the new chapter of my life begins. Today I leave the bachelors course and all the memories attached to it behind. Its no longer reality. It has become an album. The past. History. Something that will be visited. Something personal,at the same time impersonal. I sit. Amazingly, I dont feel bad. I'm surprised at myself. The atmosphere is comfortably 'blind' that even surprise into a non-exciting feeling. A calm acceptance, but not passiveness. Yesterday, another page in the book of my life has been turned. I think I helped pushing the page and turning it in order to get to the new page. I see a table of contents. But it isn't everything. So many things hidden in between the various sections. Let them come. I'll accept them. Go through it. And I'm sure this time, I'll go through the pages thoroughly. 

By li'l sis

 

Funny how things which hurt you the most, teach you the greatest lesson in life. And you want to forget it but because of that learning, you remember it always.

Karan, Coffee, Gere and China

 

When will Indians stop nodding their heads to everything an American says or does without even thinking of what the context is and the implications are, besides making a fool of himself?

All Richard Gere had to say day before yesterday in Coffee with Karan, the celebrity talk show by film director Karan Johar, was unfortunately or fortunately, critique on the Chinese stand on the Tibet and their hard heartedness.

Granted: What is happening is most probably true. Many are suffering, that way under the Chinese. But when he says that India is a happening place today (which he feels for the first time in his relationship with India for 30 years and adds that if India also helped raise the education levels, and uplift the poor, it would become a greater culture especially in South Asia and certainly better than China and stay so for the next 200-300 years(??) To that Karan Johar replies, with a smile of gratitude, "We hope so". We hope so? Who? So when did Richard Gere become a culture evaluator? By what scale is he measuring the greatness of Indian Culture? And what makes us better than China? How can we even compare both countries in matter other than GDP growth? And why in the world does Karan Johar have to pay faithful doggie who is glad to have a bone thrown his way by his owners' friend? So does he believe that India will become better than China, if Richard Gere says so? And who is 'we'? The Bollywood heroes? How many of them can name ten Chinese cities? How many of them can openly speak against the atrocities done by Government in Nandigram? They can't.

But when Mr. Gere blames China and thinks if we can eradicate poverty, we could become a great culture in South Asia – he can nod his head in appreciation of the generous words spoken by an actor from a country who bombarded and mutilated a country and continues to do so, for a reason, which they are still trying to figure – no reason. I'm talking about Iraq. Certainly, American culture, must be "the way" or it atleast  seems that way in Bollywood movies with fresh numbers of "wanna - be" styles being shown, as if typical India had all that.

Atleast in the future, prominent talk show hosts should not endorse the opinions of foreign celebrities, without realizing the ass he would be making of himself, because it is something deeply political, the seriousness of which, in that moment of excitement of having a Hollywood celebrity on the show, may not be fathomed and be misplaced. I don't want to be racist but Mr. Gere is entitled to his opinion, the problem I have is with Indian's   who think that they have to endorse all that they say.

Endnote:  Atleast the foreigners can say what they want o Indian TV and get away with it. Freedom of speech for an Indian and a foreigner. Not in many countries, I must observe "certainly not in China".

 

Within the curtains of the room, lies my mind.

Rain? Where? Yet to reach here. After the afternoon nap feeling weird. I'm
emotional. Switched off the cell for some time and went for a walk to the
main road. Deviated mind for some time. Trying yet again, reading
'Fly away Peter'. It made me forget the dry heat of my room and pulled me
into another set of emotions which kept changing with the chapters. Finally,the pages ran outof letters. And I sit still. Slowly fading into the real world, but into a different mindset, the meanng of which I am still trying to understand.

AUTOMONEY

a u t o m o n e y

for those who did not say much

Welcome to the the e - magazine which failed being pulished as a magazine-in-print, in one of the Colleges in this world. An attempt at raising concerns, in a strong but light hearted manner.

If you have anything to say, do comment or mail in the address given below. If we see that there's a little 'less' embarrassing response, then, we would love to continue its publication online. Don't embarrass me! Send 'em in. Good luck and happy reading. Do comment on the posts and spread the word around.

Warm regards,
Editor.

READ DOWNWARDS.

All entries with the label 'automoney: the e-magazine' are part of the same. The easiest way to find all the articles together is to press on the label link below, instead of searching around.

All the best.

Editorially challenged

Editorially challenged

We all need autonomy- sorry- automoney. This is because we need to depend on autos at some point of time in life. By paying money for the auto-ride(i.e. automoney), we achieve mobility in life and are able to reach our destination, quite quickly.
Automoney is an ordinary man’s life-saver. When one wants to reach somewhere and is already late, this money comes in handy to get you to the place you want to, on time. It is the common man’s refuge when the distance is short.

Although the money you pay for your travel is fixed, often they vary from auto to auto and driver to driver. Automoney is different things to different people. What it can symbolise or mean to a diverse student population like ours is beyond imagination.
For example, enough autonomy automoney can help the driver add sophisticated devices to his vehicle so that his vehicle is looked up to by other auto-drivers as The auto having achieved a particular standard, so to speak. With automoney, he can install a flat screen TV for entertainment, hidden cameras in all corners for security reasons and even special speakers to listen to Radio Rag-Thug broadcasts. A patient wait can enable him to buy yet another auto and expand his services.
Automoney also signifies power. Because of it we find, at times, auto-drivers more powerful and dominating than we expect. In times as those, when we have no other go but succumb to take an auto instead of public transport, they demand more money, leaving only the identity cards in our wallets and purses. After 9:30 pm, they demand higher rates, without the least compassion towards our money bags. Poor layman is forced to pay, as he would have to get somewhere, urgently. What a pity!
All auto-drivers are not that greedy and fierce. Some are kind. For this kind, it is not just the auto money that matters, but whether he/she was able to get the passenger safely to his/her destination, without inconveniences. At times, he might even begin a jolly little chat ending up cementing a friendship with the passenger. Such drivers are unforgettable.
Finally, we should always remember that the power is not always with the auto-driver alone. The passenger has a voice. The more the passengers, the louder the voice. Automoney is meant to amplify the voices of the students and help each other reach their destinations through co-operation and giving each other company, as the journey could be rough. It is about using the automoney you have and making the best use of it. It is certainly not an easy task, but definitely possible. Join us for an autoride.

Health Watch - Ask the doctor

-HEALTH WATCH-

Ask the Doctor.

Through this column, Automoney provides you the rare opportunity to solve your health issues in consultation with one of the best doctors in Bangalore, Dr. Chandamoney.


From :Dinky Lullu John,19

Dear Doctor, I have been an asthma patient for the past 11 years. Every night around 1:00 am, I start coughing continuously on and on for so long, till around 1:02 am. When I cough my back starts aching and I feel as though my head is spinning in right angles. When my head spins I drink water and go and lie down on the couch in the front room. Then suddenly I become alright. I have a history of chicken pox, malaria and a short stint of Jaundice which stayed for only 9 months. I haven’t had any relapses yet. My previous doctor told me that I had chances of getting cystic fibrosis on my right biceps and need to stop consuming cheese grill sandwiches from the cafeteria. Tell me what to do doctor… What medicine do I take?

Dr. Chandamoney: Crocin.

Miles to go before that slip…

-GUEST ARTICLE-

Miles to go before that slip…
The story of a student’s race towards the slip before slipping out of the system

I woke up to the rooster crowing to its delight… from the gutturals of my mobile (I call it the natures call). Today is not a normal day; at least not for me. Today is the day I beat the SYSTEM… the day the good will seal its victory over evil and the world will be rid of its shackles of darkness… In short… today, I shall reach class before that attendance slip goes away! Well, this is not something to laugh over; not if you experience this where you are studying.

So, all ready for the battle for attendance, suddenly I drift off to that dreaded first day when I was told that every class of every subject could gain me 5 marks at the end if the semesters, making me grin from ear to ear.

5 marks! Just like that, by attending all the classes! How simple! I laugh off that episode in my memory as I have no time to waste because there are… miles to go before I sleep, or in my case, miles to go before that slip.

But, as I get out, I realise that this journey was not going to be easy. I face failure after failure. First: There are no auto-rickshaws ready to take me to college (I wonder where they expect to take you - North Pole is what I am guessing). When I finally manage to get one, the traffic is extremely smooth flowing!
As I celebrate, having reached, within me, I see the guard at the gate asking someone for the ID card. “Huh, Old trick mister!” I boldly tell myself. I quickly dig into my bag for the ID card and triumphantly flash it at him.

First attempt.
Result: Empty hand.

Second attempt.
Result: I’m sweating blood now. I look at the watch. There’s precisely two minutes and eleven seconds before the slip escapes. I stood there stupefied but not ready to accept defeat. I can see the security guard walk over to me in slow motion. I decide it’s time to use the best weapon that was sure to flip him off his mind. I prayed to the almighty and launched attack: I start crying for all my worth, though it sounds more like laughing, it works! I rush, run, and jump hurdles… (dupattas that are pulled over anything defines that you are just within the dress code). I look at the watch again. 17 seconds- may be I can just make it…

I wake up to the rooster crowing to its delight from the gutturals of my own mobile. I look at the time… GOOD LORD! It’s past 8:30! Looks like it is yet another battle against time today.

For those interested in knowing what happened with me that day: I reach fifteen minutes late. All the heaving and panting didn’t really help as I had just missed the slip. I was greeted with even better news: “From tomorrow no student is going to be allowed in their class or respective block after the bell”, or something to that effect, is what I caught of what the teacher said. I already seemed to be drifting back to that battle ground trying to plan strategies to beat the system. Oh if it just weren’t for that slip…

PS: Marketing forecast in this particular institution: Sales in the kiosk and the food court will rise by over 300% with the new law coming into effect.

Sujithra Gopalakrishnan

(Special thanks to Suji for believeing in our dream - editors)

The breeze of slumber.

The breeze of slumber.
The struggle, of a student to sit up in class, on a breezy afternoon after a heavy lunch, often goes un-noticed and down played. A tribute to those who struggle in this way.

One bright afternoon,
The temperature slowly rising;
And then remaining steady;
But the going up again…
Oh, let’s forget the climate
And ponder upon this herd
Of disinterested, unfocussed,
Bunch of humans calling themselves,
Students.
Ah! The breeze is lovely
And the time apt,
To blink one eye and then the other,
And then leave them closed
Until either the sweet chime
Of the old bell is heard,
Or by misfortune to be
Caught by ear by the
More learned being addressed as,
Teacher.
And there comes the topic
“How to conduct an interview”:
An activity carried out between
Two or more people.
But today, as I see,
This is no interview
But a teacher talking all alone
And listened to by few.
Woe! Be to this afternoon
As my eyes shut
Like heavy iron doors.
Caffeine tried to help me,
To help me help myself
From the embracing goodness
Of a sweet afternoon slumber.
O Learned being! Thou speaketh
So boldly but knowest not
How peaceful, our slumber is!
Non-stop is thine speech,
Pausing at intervals, to examine
How many have switched off,
And how many are
The batteries that are low!
How I wish those heavy iron doors
Would stay up at least
To appear respectful!
But nay, I am helpless!
To the forces of sight-
These heavy eyelids.
Oh my mind, vow that you will
Stay awake at least in the next hour,
Or else give in peacefully
To the breeze of slumber.

Wishful thinking.

Wishful thinking.

This column features certain dreams which the editors have, but know for sure that they wouldn’t materialise until a cow jumped over the moon. Sigh…

How we wish that…
1…all politicians knew how to read and write.
2…the media department had at least one window, so that our gurus could breathe.
3…CIA meant: Custard Instead of Assignments, in the place of the present full form, Continuously Irritating Assignments.
4…Mr. Chinnappa and gang’s (the guys who collect attendance slips) work hours were 1pm - 2pm.
5…there were no/less cockroaches in the Aloo (potato) buns the next time we were hungry.

the editorial team

a u to m o n e y

Published by:
Chief Editor


Any more people willing to hold any Chief position in this publication, kindly contact us at the email address given below. You could also stay away from such positions, if you wish, and contribute by sending us articles, poems, creative ideas, thoughts, emails and loads of criticism. We would like to hear what you think about Automoney and help us bring out a better edition the next time around, if we are not expelled by then.
Special thanks to those souls who risked their lives by contributing to Automoney.
Let students have their voice!

READ FURTHER

The Food Re-view Column

The Food Re-view Column
By famous foodie Jacquelin Janakiamma

[Caution: The names of the items reviewed in this column may not have any connection at all with the real product.]

Item: Georgia Cold Coffee (machine ones)
Location of availability: Kiosk

Beautiful packaging. Looks good. Tastes…Uh…there are not any taste buds left after drinking it and let’s not talk about the smell. Jancy suspects a loose motion in the coffee machine, which produces this mysterious fluid which is packaged in plastic. The funny part is that this sewage is actually priced! That too an astronomical sum of 15 rupees. Jancy wonders why coffee lovers are not up in arms yet for calling it coffee. She also suggests labelling the drink (the term ‘drink’ here is again disputable), ‘Blended Coffee powder accidentally spilt over spoilt milk in a hurry’, or something. Jancy urges the sellers to stop deceiving students in the name of coffee, that too cold. Or else she will call the Bangalore Food Inspector, which also happens to be her husband.

Activity Centre

Activity Centre

This column provides brings you the latest social trends in the society and helps you stay occupied when you don’t have much to do.

How to start a riot

Riots are a rage today. They help you get yourself on the front page of the newspapers and on redundant videos on deprived 24 hour news channels. The best part is neither do you need to be intelligent nor do you need much experience in the field, to start one. Just begin it and things will take its own course. Automoney tells you how to start your own riot.

Problem : To start a riot with available resources.

Hypothesis: ‘Any Tom, Dick or Harry can start a riot for any silly reason without much difficulty’.

Materials needed: a couple of stones, cricket/hockey bat, visible glass windows, a bike and some nut-cases.

Precaution/ Requirements: Find / make / search / for a friend whose Daddy or uncle has very high political clout. You will be invincible with a pal like him as long as his Daddy’s party is in power.

Procedure: Any of the following methods could be employed.

• Throw a stone at a place of worship belonging to any religion and yell out “Bharat Mata Ki…”
• If you have an extra stone, throw one at a policeman standing in an open area. When the he comes at you, the people around will take care of the rest.
• Carry a filled gas stove on a train, by mistake. Light the burner. Leave it in the train toilet and escape. The rest will take its own course. This one will spread around the state and, may be, further within no time.
• If you like a particular Indian language, find people with similar interests; form a group and speak provocatively in public. Make sure you tell that your language is superior and all other languages are as useless as Sanskrit or Latin.
  
  Since you have classes now, there are activities which you can try out during your summer vacation. Just make sure there is a bike somewhere nearby so that you can light the lamp for the riot and go home.

End note:

If you are still alive, we can have the analysis of results and may be a discussion.

The librarian of the Library of Liberty.

To stretch a short story long

The librarian of the Library of Liberty.
Based on a true story of a library-loving student


Once upon a time there was a library. Like all libraries which had a lot of unwanted books, this one too had a human-in-charge called a librarian. His job was to…Uh… actually, only he knew what he was doing there, because all those who sat in the Library of Liberty were busy sleeping, or else messaging their sweet hearts. Huge boards carrying jokes like ‘Maintain silence’ and ‘Do not use cell phones inside’ hung about in strategic locations in here, just like the Hutch ad hoardings outside. Remarkably, the students put an effort at following the former but were often caught disobeying the latter (“My hand feels empty without my phone”, as one shared with this author). Now, a noticeable quality of the librarian was that he had an eye for cell phones and caught keypad-happy users and reproached them loudly. I mean LOUDLY. Students who sat around watching this reality show, found this very frustrating, as the urge to restrain oneself to maintain silence was a trying task, which usually caused much fatigue.

Now what used to happen almost every single day was that, the student suffering a loss of his cell phone, as well as his dignity, would stand near the librarian’s desk (some one said that it was custom made for this purpose), awaiting the pleasantries that barged forth from the dutiful man of stacked books. At that time, a loud ring sounding like a phone from the 50’s would shake the whole library. Even the assistant librarian (Yes, there was one of them too), who kept her phone on silent mode would suffer temporary stoppage of her heart beat due to the suddenness of this phenomenon. Things would get worse as the Librarian, who would seem to suffer from immediate amnesia regarding the ‘No Cell phone inside” rule, would take out a Sony-Ericsson from his pocket and would begin to rap at 237 words/min at the rate of an estimated 95 Decibels, while communicating with an ignorant man on the other end of the phone (probably, a telemarketing executive).

Imagine this happening many times, everyday.

Naturally, couples who bunked classes together never found this sanctum of books as the ideal place for romance.

One day, the Librarians cell phone, cried yet again, as loud as it could. The pandemonium, beginning from the earth shattering ‘tring-tring’ repeated itself ending with a conversation which went as fast as BSNL broad band’s bit-rate*. As soon as he disconnected, a “We wish you a merry Christmas” ringtone blasted off from the students’ side of the library. The guilty ridden librarian, amidst the students’ muffled laughter, tried his hand at acting like a person who had forgotten his ear drums at home. The ring tone completed the chorus(“We wish…happy new year”) and died down, stopping short of the stanza (“Good tidings…”).

The Librarian resumed breathing.
Yet again, the book-man’s phone rang the sweet chiming-bell ringtone which resonated in the high roofed library. This time he showed considerable mastery of his skill to operate a mobile handset, and cut the call. A miracle.

As if in retaliation, “We wish you a merry Christmas” rang out again from the same student, the duration of which matched that of the Librarian’s sweet chiming Ericsson. Furiously, the book-monster charged towards his suspect who still seemed to think it was Christmas. He was just about to confiscate the lad’s mobile, when Ericsson started chiming again, from his desk, which was now around 20 steps away. With it crying like a hungry new-born, and knowing that he was going to lose the game, he yelled, “Give me the phone!”. The cheeky student who knew his moves smiled boldly, and replied “No”. All the eyes in the library moved from student to librarian to his desk. The chimes now reached a feverishly high pitch. Knowing that he was in quick sand, the Librarian attempted, “Come and give me the phone”, and leapt towards his desk in an attempt to silence the pandemonium. Identifying the call as an unavoidable one following a look at the screen, he picked it up. Immediately, the joy of Christmas pervaded the whole hall through a monophonic rendition of the now familiar Christmas song. The Librarian showed signs of not being able to concentrate on his conversation, and kept repeating a variety of “Hello”s amidst the din of the now fairly audible laughter of students who watched he “War of the Cell Phones”. The atmosphere of Christmas faded away and Mr. Book(ed)man , with much sweat dripping down his forehead (which confirmed family matters as the content of conversation), turned around to catch hold of the student who was bold enough to pull one on him.

But he had coolly walked away amidst the din.

With much weariness, Mr. books sat behind his desk. Sensing much distress, the assistant librarian approached him enquiring if he was alright and whether he needed some water.
“No”, he grunted, “Just show me how to switch this thing off.”

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* Claimed to be around 2 mega bite per second

Blog at its best.

Today, finally I got to read the blog which I had read only twice before. the entries have increased and its a beautiful one.

It made my eyes water. Not because of the emotional content, but by the fact that I knew 90 percent of the stories in context. Re-living the memories of what my best friend had gone through, left me shaken. He had told most of these stories, especially when his heart could not hold it anymore. I am honoured to have been confided to, to be trusted and to have been beside this elder brother who's saved my number as 'anchor', on his phone, beside the name. To have been part of that big story, I consider myself lucky. Its not with everyone that you pour out your heart, in this volume. Like a dam that can't hold anymore, those feelings kept spilling out. As always, I still believe that the dam is built on a strong sure foundation, the foundation called the Lord. Miracles.  Countless miracles. No brother, not a coincidence. you are right. He's beside you. and your life has proven it to me.

I love way he writes. No bars. Never apologetic. Always candid and frank. Just the way he felt. No sensorship. Heart on the blog. I would love to write that way. But I hold back. straight from the heart writing has its own beauty. I love that beauty.

Always beside you, buddy. we've got great plans for the future and have placed it in front of the Lord. He'll use or discard it. I'm for using it! God Bless you.

End note.
I wish I had a net connection of my own so that I could keep blogging regularly cos there's so much I want to write about.

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