Waisybabu

Dope.

Notes

Watching Mona Deliver A Child, Piya Kiss Rancho with Parents

Watching 3 Idiots with your parents makes for some VERY awkward moments. Baba :/’d at the aal-izz-well-baby-kicking scene. Mama :O’d at the child-birth scene while Omer O_o’d at the kiss scene… while I :’(‘d during all those awkward and tense moments.

Lesson learned: don’t watch an indian flick with your parents… unless your intentions are to convince them into letting you go ahead for software engineering: a less than mazaydaar career choice.

1 note

keshav: Damn, this is so true! Is this triangle called something? Something like a theory or phenomenon? I guess if not, I’ll now pronounce it “The Triangle of Two” The Triangle of Two is a graphical explanation of a theory that establishes the fact that a person may only have two of the given three features, namely: Intelligence, emotional stability and a good appearance. Similar to the right brain-left brain theory, a person possessing a higher magnitude of any two features, will lack qualities of the third feature. However, if efforts are made, the required deficiency may be amended. —  Image sourced by Priya. Theory made by yours truly.

keshav:

Damn, this is so true!

Is this triangle called something? Something like a theory or phenomenon? I guess if not, I’ll now pronounce it “The Triangle of Two”

The Triangle of Two is a graphical explanation of a theory that establishes the fact that a person may only have two of the given three features, namely: Intelligence, emotional stability and a good appearance.

Similar to the right brain-left brain theory, a person possessing a higher magnitude of any two features, will lack qualities of the third feature. However, if efforts are made, the required deficiency may be amended.

—  Image sourced by Priya. Theory made by yours truly.

Notes

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

- William Ernest Henley