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101: How to Riot - A Beginners Guide For Writers

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Happy New Year, my dear fellow readers! Now before you folks start hurling abuses at me I'd like to say that this article has nothing to do with rioting. In fact, it's a basics guide on how to write. Yes. My auto-correct has malfunctioned after my phone got damaged at Kurla station, while I was trying to board a Karjat fast train. Anyway, quite a happening week to start the new year. From whiskey on the rocks to throwing rocks, the frustration regarding 2017 still hasn't left us. In fact, it has grown so high that some people were still partying out there, setting buses on fire and shit and having the time of their life! A random and unnecessary snapshot from a book that was gifted to me by a dear friend. Because a picture speaks a thousand words which probably no one wants to hear. (Pic Source: 'ABC's of Anarchy' by Brian Heagney) Anyway, we all live in the age of artificial intelligence and machine learning. Of big data and small minds. And in case yo

The Teacher

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He picks up the chalk, the numbers,  the equations,  the inequalities. The chalk dust settles to the ground, however, he's taught me that nothing stays around forever.   His words ring in my ears, asking me to live my life to the fullest,  for I might die tomorrow. Asking me to explore new horizons every day, Oh this life is too short to wallow in sorrow.   There's no heaven, there's no hell, he said, Do everything while you're still alive and well, Because nothing ever matters when you're dead. Even the faces on the photograph, will gradually fade away,  Never lose your present,  in the melancholy of what you lost yesterday. The boundless love you share, the kindness and care, will keep growing and flowing,  like the blissful morning air   You've gone nowhere, you'll always be there, In my music and my words,  in those blooming flowers and chirping birds, In my good deeds and Mom's prayer beads, In the books that I read, You'll always be with me, in

An Ode To The Beautiful Primes

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When I was in school, I never quite liked math, like every other kid. But being the son of a mathematics professor, my love for math was eventually developed. It can also be seen as an interesting case of Stockholm Syndrome maybe. And now, I like to think math is just like life. Whether you love it or hate it, you can't escape or run away from it. The beautiful primes (Pic Source: https://www.helpingwithmath.com/printables/tables_charts/misc/Prime-Numbers01.svg) Revisiting my childhood days, I guess I was in third grade when I first learnt about prime numbers. For all those who have never ever heard of prime numbers before and the ones who think math is Satan's language, allow me to elaborate what prime numbers are. Prime numbers are numbers that are ONLY divisible by one and itself. In much simple terms, they cannot be evenly divided. As kids, we were told to memorize these numbers and we were supposed to know prime numbers up to at least 100. And we were told that t

Behold The Grapes of Wrath

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Last year, when I was in Prague, I saw across this huge statue standing in the middle of Wencelas Square. Statue of King Wencelas, Prague I was on a walking tour and the guide started narrating me a very interesting story. In 1960s, when the Soviet Union's Warsaw Pact army had occupied Czechoslovakia (now Czech Republic), there was a growing anti-communist sentiment throughout the nation. However, the resentment against the oppressors was sort of blunt. There was a cold apathy among the people. It seemed as if no one cared about anything anymore and were gradually getting accustomed to the tyrannical communist regime. Right then, a horrifying yet fascinating event took place at Prague's Wencelas Square. A 20 year old young man, and a student of philosophy at Charles University did something which later turned out to be the turning point in the history of freedom of Czechoslovakia. On 16 January, 1969, Jan Palach stood atop Wencelas Square, doused in petrol and set

The Empty Pots

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It was a bright sunny afternoon of May and the temperature was hovering around forty degrees. Outdoors, not a single person was in sight. Everyone snuggled up inside their houses to avoid facing the wrath of this unbearable heat. As the old woman watched from the window, a light breeze blew the ground dust on the windowpane. She looked for a while and then got up, heading towards the kitchen. The pots were empty and dry. She picked up a couple of those pots and took them with her. Just when she was about to leave, she saw a man on a motorcycle, pulling up in the front of the verandah of the house. The man got down from the bike and gently knocked on the front door. "Mother?" The old woman opened the door. "What happened?" , she inquired suspiciously. "Well, nothing. I was just passing by here and I thought I should visit you." She looked at him momentarily. "Okay, come on in." , she said and the man entered the house and sat on the c

Strange News From Another Star

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And when we parted, I hurried home. Wary of my solitude like never before. I woke up hung-over with the disco lights still flashing in my head. I had been on a pub hopping spree the previous night and it was a wild one. The hostel room was eerily quiet and empty as all the roommates had already left. Also the cranky old woman on the bunk bed beside had left. I checked my watch and it was almost noon. I got up from the bed, put on my floaters and lethargically headed towards the bathroom. I took a shower and freshened up, ready for the day. It was my last day in Budapest and I had kept it free. I had no schedule as such and had planned to explore this marvellous city one last time before I catch my flight back home. I grabbed my camera and my small backpack & went downstairs in the hostel cafeteria to see if they were still serving breakfast. To my disappointment they had wrapped up an hour ago. The coffee was still available though and so were the fruits. I poured myself a c

The Lizard

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“In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”~ Albert Camus I woke up with the sound of the alarm ringing loudly in my ears. It was already nine in the morning but the bedroom was still unusually dark. I got up from the bed and pushed aside the curtains to let in the morning sunlight. No luck. The sun was obscured behind the grey clouds and the sky outside was grim and melancholic, flaunting a rather dusky look today. Perhaps it'll rain. I gazed outside the window for a few moments and then went in the kitchen to prepare my morning cup of coffee. The wall lizard upon seeing me quickly ran towards the container racks and hid behind them. I flicked on the light switch but no use. The electricity was out. Maybe yesterday night's rain had a role to play in this. Grabbing the milk carton from the fridge I poured it in the cup and then added sugar and coffee powder to it. Stirring it with a spoon I took the cup in the bedroom and pl

Between News and Propaganda

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No thanks. Recently I had the opportunity to read and educate myself a bit about the cult hype surrounding the Cobrapost sting operations. Now many of you might be knowing about it and many of you might be wondering which is this new breed of snake. For those who haven't heard about Cobrapost or anything related to it, it's a news/investigative portal that did a series of sting operations on various television, news and digital media platforms. The sting operations revealed how big media houses and digital companies are willing to sell religious/political propaganda and agenda through their channels and platforms for money. There were many big names involved in this scandal and the outrage on the internet regarding this was tremendous. Especially on Twitter and Reddit. The two least toxic social media platforms out there as of now. (Can't say that about Twitter anymore though) Now the outrage was justified. News and media channels are ideally supposed to be unb