H.VACHASPATI


Friday, October 1, 2010

Bull's Eye

"How many are they?",the man inquired,loading the cookies in his car at BakeYard.
"Half a score carats of a dozen each."
"But I had asked for thirty and a hundred.What am I going to.."
"Ah! it's the Baker's dozen,sire",the bakery man replied.
écritoire de : H.Vachaspati ,sur 3:06 AM
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The Pink Floyd saga

The child has grown,the dream is gone. And I have... now become uncomfortably numb.Patrolling the two farthest ends of the G-wing terrasse of the geezers' (G has no analogy of any kind to weeds) hostel,if you would call it, with the mercury down to the freezing point of my feet and the reddening acme of my nose,I had attained my enlightenment.
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A Purple Story

Viola descended the spiral staircase of her magnificent chateau with the befitting grace of her blue blood.Earl Ameranthine had had this imperial air and his daughter had followed the suit.She looked strikingly beautiful,her azure eyes,reflecting in them the assuage of the evening sky.
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THE CHEMICAL COLOUMN

French Forum

Credits

w3c schools

Meenakshi Madhavan

Shobhaa De

Tinypic.com

Ouchmytoe.com

Shruti Parashar

Mitchellaneous

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