Do Corn Pops Really Determine the Future?

you should carry this writing to the end.
either fetch some prince charming out of it , or let your parents throw u out of the home.
hehehhee
corn pops or popcorn,both will define the fate?

Hallo... very funny write-up... thanks, enjoyed it throughly!!! Look forward to more...

cheerio,
-zensufi-

Dear Beejay:

Before corresponding with you on the trivial matter which at depth down proven to be of few cm pedantries, I must say you are overzealous in attempt to persist it scornfully.
Well do you mean I should show level of my fervourance to convince that I have gravity in me then it is immaterial. Because there is no measure to scale down sorrows or any other true emotion. But the expostulation was not meant on the maladroitations in this attitude but it was a comment on basis of heedless fabrication, which didn’t posses my penchant. Though it was written to be, but don’t you think if that is the surviving cases then don’t an obituary will work. Why to take pens and overdoses it with writing which carry something to entice.

If still you are unable to grab the crux of matter then you are allowed to garble, there is no short of words but the meanings.

Take very good care of yourself,

Re #10

Nadia Zehra,

You are absolutely right, ma’m! It appears that too much exposure to these hallowed halls of hilarious heartaches has hardly helped – I seem to have become forgetful. Alas!

Yet, just for a moment, let me kindly draw your attention to the last paragraph of that otherwise subdued submittal that you quoted from that other board – and which applies to THIS board as well – and goes as follows:

“But tell me the truth, Nadia Zehra, didn’t in one tiny corner of your heart, feel a little bit of the emotion that this (namesake of yours) writer conveys in her short story – ….? Remember, no fibbing allowed! Come on, out with IT!!!”

May I remind you, dear lady, that the paragraph in question was the punch line – a line that you shied away from answering – because that would have resulted in a humiliating defeat of the dourest disposition, without a doubt!

Dear Ma’m, if I may kindly point out (and still survive) – you pay too much attention to details! While it is okay, as is said in common parlance, to “give the devil its due”, please remember that the “devil is in the details!” When you let your morbid fascination for trivial details trap you into judging (which I notice on this board, as well as on the one aforementioned), perhaps prejudging, an otherwise absolutely agreeable tear-jerker, you do your objectivity on issues no favor! When you are determined to stomp, and stomp away merrily at the gentle murmurings and musings of a young damsel in distress, as depicted in this diary of a drooling doll – you hurt the hearts of ALL drooling dolls that reside in ALL ladies – occupying one little corner somewhere, where they remain subdued, forever underdogs, suppressed but not subordinated – for, unacknowledged by the tough cookies of the day, the proverbial superwomen of our times – such entities represent the best of womanhood – and the essential difference from the men folks!

Nadia Zehra, please pause and ponder for a second, BEFORE you pulverize the drooling dolls of the day with your powerful if pretty petty and peevish punches! For sooner or later, as perhaps inadvertently described by Shelly, every such woman must encounter and face that frail other, and exclaim…

“….Is it a dream, or do I see
And hear frail Helen? I would flee
Thy tainting touch; but former years
Arise, and bring forbidden tears;
And my o`erburdened memory
Seeks yet its lost repose in thee.
I share thy crime. I cannot choose
But weep for thee; mine own strange grief
But seldom stoops to such relief;….”

Beejay:

Don`t you remember the resultant of brawl you were carrying on against me on this other board you have mentioned in post #8 of yours. You thought to be trodden off.

#21 by BeeJay on June 26, 2005 9:23am PT
#20 Nadia Zehra

You are absolutely right, of course. (When did I ever say you were wrong? (Plus, I like a few enjoyable things in my life (like staying alive as distinct from being eaten alive)). We are digressing way off the topic at hand! So I will cease and desist.

Chowk editors and writers (and wannabe writers), if you are reading this (wait a minute – shouldn’t you be writing instead of reading?), please take no notice of any inadvertent crass remarks from me that may have landed into your plates! (Okay, you want me to butter you up don’t you? Well, here it is, come a little bit closer – Psst, it was meant for everybody but YOU! Happy NOW?!)

Nadia Zehra, you are right, I am wrong! You are the big shoe, I’m the tiny dust particulate.

So, you see, here I retreat – beaten up and utterly humiliated in defeat – like a wet cat. With my tail between my legs – head bowed in sheer, sheer sorrow and dejection writ large (in Times Roman font size 90, as some would say)!

But tell me the truth, Nadia Zehra, didn’t in one tiny corner of your heart, feel a little bit of the emotion that this (namesake of yours) writer conveys in her short story – about the death of a beloved? Remember, no fibbing allowed! Come on, out with IT!!!


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