The truth...

from wikipedia: Bhaskara II tried to solve the problem by defining (in modern notation) .^[1] This definition makes some sense, as discussed below, but can lead to paradoxes if not treated carefully. These paradoxes were not treated until modern times.

Bhaskara XCLMVVLCM did it!!!

5 reasons to save the planet...

...

Aren't you an a$$ ho !!



You need a reason?

List of GAWDS

a. GAWD

b. Jimi Hendrix

c. Gordon Freeman

d. Douglas Adams

e. Almighty

f. Stallman

g. Wikipedia

h. daGmann

i. Borat

j. Harry Potter Lovecraft

k. Quentin Tarantino

l. Gordon Frohman

m. Duke Nukem

n. Tesla

o. Zeus

p. the Beatles

q. Akhil Naru, C-213, R.P. Hall, IIT Kgp - 721 302

r. Bhaskara II

s. Batman

t. Alan Moore

u. Nolan

v. Rumiko Takahashi

w. Chuck Norris

x. Joker

y. Neil Gaiman

z. Ellen Page

Quirkines... not the best virtue.

Note to self: Do not be too quirky.

Why?

Well remember the Summer Internship Presentation. The first presentation ever, followed by that first question tht you were, ahem, 'supposed' to ask. NO frankly, you were.

Yes, I was. And as an advice to anyone who stumbles across this piece, do not, and i repeat, DO NOT ask the presenter what his objective of the project was. I mean its okay if he didn't have one or he wasn't clear or even if the professor who penalized you for that agreed at the end of the presentation. Just do not be a smart-ass. The world doesn't like them; or at least it doesn't prefer any smart-assery from my kind.

The best thing is to not listen to the codswallop (yae HP!) and simply fish out that competition guide and solve those entrance exam problems, which i am terrible at, at the moment.

Lord save the meek. Oh yeah, He sent the professors to do that.

Dedicated to... :) (I'll write better next time... :P )

One little girl, one fine day,

Picked up a stone, and threw it away.

The stone, it flew,

Past hedges of dew,

Past heaps of hay,

Into the bright sunny day.

It passed towers of mud,

And flowers and buds,

And insects and trees,

Till mother earth beseeched:

"Come down O Little One!

Come into my arms,

Hold me tight and strong,

Cry not for what's gone."

And the little stone, it cried

"Mother earth, I died,

A hundred deaths, and more,

Why did He make me, a stone?

No girl of beauty,

Ever kept me beside,

To love me one day,

But threw me aside,

Or stamped me beneath,

Her beautiful li'll feet,

Or threw me away,

My fate does not sway."

"Oh my poor dearest,

Don't despair in vain,

A little girl's loss,

Is a loving mother's gain

Come into my arms,

And do rest a little while,

And dry up your tears,

Everyone has their trial"

And so the stone,

Leapt back to the ground,

And rested its head,

In a haven 'gain found.

Till one fine day,

In a big heap of weeds,

A lady came forth,

And wrote of the deeds,

Of love's labor lost,

Of the heart's sorrowful tale,

Her pages did fly,

In the merry wind's gale,

And the lady, the gentle soul,

Found a stone on the ground,

A queer little marvel,

Of nature unbound,

Unmoving and silent,

And yet a free spirit,

Bound not by the soil,

Or the weeds living near it,

And pick she did,

This lonely little stone,

And placed it on her,

Life's memories unknown,

And as if from a slumber,

The little spirit awoke,

And found itself amongst,

Memories of old,

Of tales both sad,

And beautiful and mad,

Of love's labour lost,

And thoughts that were glad,

She kept him on the pages,

The wind did try to blow,

But knowing it had a purpose,

The little stone did hold,

In a world unforgiving,

A small, sad stone,

Had found its story,

And a place, called home.

The Race

The snail and the slug
Decided it was time
To find who was better
In both runnin' and rhyme

"You carry a shell
That'll make you slow"
Said the slug to the snail
As it started to go

And the bell, it chimed
"Do not be too smug
For there's also the rhyme"
Said the snail to the slug

And so they began
To rhyme as they ran
"From a man to a man
Come on, you know you can't"

Said the snail to the slug
"You know you're a bug
Running into bad luck"
Shouted out the slug

And they both ran
For a queer sight it was
'Coz none had feet
Yet both had jogged

And queer a sight
One ought to call
A snail and a slug
Racing on a wall

One trying to catch
The other's trail of muck
And either fell behind
Or ran into plain bad luck

And the sight grew queerer
As they rhymed when they ran
Each one denouncing
The other one's plan

And the sight came to an end
A sorrowful one though
As a crow flew down
And flew off with both

Hollowness...

There are a lot of things, I guess, one can append to themselves once he/she realizes that vainglory has been a part of their routine lives.

Glory is measured, as far as I see it, not in the books of wise men or in the eye of the public and/or their institutions. It's a personal measure of how much you think, or know, you achieved. Personal satisfaction is glory, for every man and woman, and to take it away from them is like trying to take the proverbial bone away from the greedy dog.

We all are greedy for that bone. But it is vanity that causes us to lose it. Being content, it is taught to us, is the key to a happy life. But contentment arises, as I see it, from the depths of desire, and the want for glory, and as many a times as it is the cause of glory, it is also the casualty.

Being content destroys progress, but it can also fuel it. Moving on is the way of life.
:)