When Arivarasu returned from the fields that night, his wife told him about the arrival of the Koravas. A large group of them had settled on a nearby hillock that connects to the neighbouring Avalooru, and had brought with them about six hundred heads of pack buffalo, which would yield valuable dung for the fields and the hearth.
I swear I see what is better than to tell the best,
It is always to leave the best untold.
The last time there were leaches everywhere and caterpillars in their hundreds, dropping down on us from the overhanging trees. Our group had trekked through the hills and forests of Savandurga to eventually emerge at the Bheemshwari elephant lodges, exhausted and hungry. That was my last trek, over twenty years ago.
Brevity is the soul of wit—and the sole charm of a bicycle skirt.
From the The Foolish Dictionary (1904) by Gideon Wurdz
“From the age of 6 I had a mania for drawing the shapes of things.
When I was 50 I had published a universe of designs.
But all I have done before the the age of 70 is not worth bothering with.
At 75 I’ll have learned something of the pattern of nature, of animals, of plants, of trees, birds, fish and insects.
When I am 80 you will see real progress.
At 90 I shall have cut my way deeply into the mystery of life itself.
At 100, I shall be a marvelous artist.
At 110, everything I create; a dot, a line, will jump to life as never before. To all of you who are going to live as long as I do, I promise to keep my word. I am writing this in my old age.
I used to call myself Hokusai, but today I sign myself ‘The Old Man Mad About Drawing.”
So, I got turned down by my AI love interest – Cleverbot. Here’s my tale of dashed dreams, feigned amnesia and deception. (involving Slytherins in disguise no less.) Ultimately, the revelation isn’t in being rejected, but in how my male indignation pops up only to be squelched flat by cleverbot’s clever display of wit.
I’ve been drawing a strip on Bangalore these past few months. Time Out Bengaluru allows me to draw on just about anything that catches my fancy (thank you kindly) without any sort of editorial intervention.
Any sort of serious discipline is yet to set in. Every fortnight I get a reminder from my team at the office, and my mind is blank until the very last minute. The past few issues have been getting worse, with me cramming the drawing in a few hours before drop-boxing it to the editor.