I was just sorting pictures on the laptop earlier today, and I happened to come across a variety of coffee clicks from so many different cafes that I have been to over the years. So, today, I am featuring the first photo blog of Scribbleomaniac to share my coffee clicks – a token of friendship from one coffee lover to another, no matter where you are.
Happy Sunday Friends! Hope you’re having a great weekend. Mine has been quite regular, so to say. Nothing surprising or adventurous really, but mostly relaxed. Amidst this non-excitedness, I thought of starting a fresh series on the blog – The Weekend Diaries and so the first chapter of the lot is ‘Of Mundane Breakfasts & Non-Horror Flicks’. Well, like I said, it has not been one of those super happening weekends, so don’t expect nothing magical, nevertheless, it is an attempt to keep the writer’s block miles away.
I don’t remember about the good old days, but ever since I entered the corporate rut, the standing up on your own feet or the feel good independent mode, I have been a huge fan of the holy month of Ramzan. I continue to enjoy this month so much more with each passing year and today, I want to share five good reasons for this undying affinity and why I miss the month of Ramzan so much.
My problem here is that I want to the turn the clock backwards. I need one hour more in my life and it’s not happening. However, I’m listing down ten things that I need to do pronto to get my act together or I might end up a dead cabbage.
Here’s my list of stuff that needs to be sorted soon, real soon.
I think it’s time,
To leave this path,
All endeavors gone sour,
Now gather your shattered heart,
Put an end to this folly,
On your part.
A bit too late on my part, but my day was way too long to keep track of time, so I hope all the beautiful women I know and others (whom I don’t) around the globe had an amazing Women’s Day.
There’s plenty of it:
An infinite plethora of disappointment.
The week has been quite heavy so far. Tied up in colossal chaos at many levels to scribble something therapuetic for the soul and struggling from an annoying viral for far too long.
Pen it down,
Tear it up,
Burn, if you may.
Hell with the play!
All these years of hoarding a sizeable professional experience in various organizations and industries, around (almost) every possible pedigree of bosses and interactions with a diverse lineage of colleagues – there’s one thing they all had in common.
They all concluded that I’m a ‘Junkie for life’.