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Category Archives: daily reflections


I’ve been under a One Piece fever lately…. Which led me to finding a few inconsistencies in the anime (haven’t been following the manga). Buggy the clown was irritating me in particular.

Bara bara no mi: Facts should stay facts. During their first meeting, Buggy the clown “bara bara’d” his body part, three of which Nami stole, tied up and Luffy sent the “now chibi” Buggy flying. They were parts of his torso/abdomen. In the Impel Down arc, we find that buggy’s body could remain within a certain radius of his other parts and he could technically fly when luffy was carrying his feet for him.

Here’s the problem: the first time we see buggy, if parts of his body could be sent flying away by a gomu gomu no bazooka, the rest should have follow suit (as seen when they fall from the red hell level).

nani kore, Oda sensei????

**** post script and kifujin comment****

Sanji and Zoro is the most feverish couple in one piece (I love both SxZ and ZxS. Both are equally yummmmm). I’m wondering whether Zoro shaves both his legs AND face. Sanji seems to have enough hair on this chins and legs … I would NOT know about anywhere else…

*context for hair* –> The idea of Zoro’s worldly hair came while wondering about the gende of pubic hair in french.

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Calm comes in the strangest ways. Like when you expect a storm.

I haven’t been able to study much for the last few days. Five days it has been, to be precise, since I have done any meaningful school work. I have a paper due on the 19th which requires me to read a recent publication in immunology and paraphrase the work “but not paraphrasing what the authors wrote”. Figure.

So while fidgeting around with my conscience and unease to somehow dupe them into allowing this paraphrasing of another person’s work and securing thirty percent of my course grade for it and all the while miserably failing at the attempt, I decided to add a grandfather for the heroine in my first big work of literature. I am not sure what to call this mammoth “story” that I plan to write yet, but I have named the word file “wishes” for no precise reason. I did write in a few dialogues between the heroines grandfather who is an ex- King: should such a thing ever exist. It is a fantasy novel, you see.

I “searched” for the word file to put in the grandfather’s character. There were a lot of things that turned up. The Elephant Vanishes was one of them.

“Very interesting. I do not remember having such a thing in my laptop.” I whispered to myself and thence I double clicked.

There was a preface by an unnamed person. Then there was a story called The Second Bakery Attack. Then I went on to read Lederhosen and finally Barn Burning. I decided to skip quite a few in the middle since my mother was supervising the progress of this “strictly paraphrasing prohibited” paraphrasing work.

Murakami’s three somewhat settlingly-unsettling short stories have restored the calm in me that I needed to be able to start this excruciating, abhorrent, yet required process. I will now proceed.

ありがとう, 村上 せんせい.


I am an animal without fur. Notignoring the hair in the general topology- on the central axial acme and in other concealed places. But to deny that I am an animal would be brutal.

When it drizzles, I cry. When it rains like the Niagra Falls, I cry with joy. You could try to falsify this truth with an easy experiment. Put me in room of concrete walls and fill in the windows. Soundproof too, while you’re at it. My animal sensors will not fail. I am on my usual way on a sunny day. At night, I’m a dangerous predator.

I might dance for you if I’m happy. Give me what I like, and I’ll give you what you like.

Leave me on the beach, and I’ll crawl towards the shades, or run towards the waterfront. In the forest, I am at home. I hear your footsteps on the dry fallen leaves and wonder who you are. If I don’t know you, I might observe you from a distance. Should your actions on my territory displease me, I will attack.

When I run, my muscles coordinate and you might find in me a thing of beauty when the sun shines on every indentation.

I thirst, I kill to live. I watch the other animals will awe and desire attention from the alpha. If I am hurt, I cry. Kill my mate, and I will avenge.

I anticipate the harrowing possibility of not having. So I save for times of need. If I’m careless, I might not, and will ask you for help.

My children resemble me closely. I take care of them for as long nature allows. I wish them well when they leave my sight. If they can’t find their food, I feed them.

Birthing hurts anyway. I am a mother animal, so take care of me.

When the machine that is my body fails, I die. Inevitably glycolysis stops and my own lysozymes fare me well with rapid degradation.

In a million years, I might become fossil fuel and the constituents of my body dissipated in air. But that is OK.

I am an animal. I serve myself and my purpose.


There was absolutely no sign of the golden searing disk that should have been suspended from the sky. But I wanted, at the very least, a warm glow. Nothing. As gray as possible and as miserably wet a fall rain spell can get.  So I decided on running to my next class.

Opening the door to the classroom there I see him again, a silent angel in the guise of a man. Since there isn’t a spot next to him that’s available, I opt in sitting in the row behind him, where his beautiful mess of hair is clearly visible. A multitude of golden, gray, brown and ash, all blended together in the most natural flow and all scattered over the back of the oval that holds his face on the opposite side. A perfect straight nose and underneath it an overly-flawed pair of lips that could never fail to interest me.

I haven’t been able to see the rest of him yet. I don’t even know what his name is. All I see is a beautifully flawed boy who’s putting on his glasses for close reading. I cannot really say if they destroy the charm of his eyes because I have never witnessed their magic.

All the time utterly silent.

Silent as the professor arrives and for the umpteenth time cannot get the transparencies to project. The angel in gray noiselessly arms himself with the retractable silver pen and locks-on the virgin sheets of paper. As the professor starts to speak, so commences the enigma with scratches on the paper.

With every stroke he pigments the paper, my heartbeat quickens. I cannot do this. Concentration becomes infinitely more impossible by each moment and with it comes the realization that I will fail, yet again.

That silent, silent smile will never be for me. I will never be able to touch the slow curve of that neck and admire the beautiful things the light does to the golden hue. Those excruciatingly divine fingertips are not for me, but for another man I will probably never know.

Another realization ends in a heartbreaking disappointment as I finally, for the first time witness steel blue magic.


DISCLAIMER: This is  a piece recounting a true event in my life on the 20th of March, 2009. Any resemblance to any person, subject, situation similar to yours etc etc what not this that will be pure coincidence. But you can write abut that in the comment if you want

This piece is a one-shot and I do not feel like editing this grammatically.

😛

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I thought that I was the only person that was able to stare down anyone. In public. I was at that very favorite pastime when I saw him for the first time. And that was also the first time I had ever seen a stone metamorphose to another.

I always walk with my head high; shoulders relaxed, and dare the world to look at me. Nobody can. Nobody could. But him. As I was walking out of the library, down the stairs that came out on the opposite of the bookstore, and in the process of looking in the face of every single stranger who would subsequently flick their eyes away, I saw him.

There was a girl wearing white leather boots and a brown frilly coat that looked of distinct designer origin. She had a face that could capture any man. So I decided to see through that face and read whatever was on it. As I proceeded to do that, she turned her eyes away from me. Obviously perturbed. Boring. I found.

As I swung my fluffy winter coat -that is more like a reconstructed blanket than anything else- on my right shoulder and suspend it there on the right index finger, palm of my back stuck to my right collar bone, I saw him. As the coat settled in its place on the right half of my back, suspended from the index finger via the brand tag that goes on the neck of the collar, I looked in his eyes. As he walked parallel towards me, I decided to see what was on that face.

A little adonic, but nothing too fancy or lacy.

The usual blond guy with a transparent white face. Bluette. Yes, blue. But impenetrable blue. I could not keep looking into that eye. It was a flawless blue islet in the middle of a sea frozen over. I always find in tough to look into blue eyes. They go too deep too sudden in the middle. But his man had no depth. Or perhaps all of it was a depth I could not perceive from my own.

In my struggle to penetrate that face, I realized that I could not keep looking into that eye. As easily a topaz would oppose the frail attempts of a painter’s brush to scratch it, his eyes threw me off balance. The sun shined on that impenetrable blue with a ferocity I have never before seen on another pair.

Here was a veteran of my game, obviously much more strong and experienced. And he stared me down, without spending any length of considerable time. I felt my pride sliced through the very middle in a matter of a few milliseconds.

As my heart stopped on this sudden turn of events, I realized that I could not have lost if this was fair play. “Something is amiss”. So I stopped walking, already a few meters away from him, still on parallel lines, back to the other.

I called out, “Stop”.

Wheeling around on the spot, I found him facing me, the sun no more shining on that blue and the blue much more deeper. No more the topaz, more a blue sapphire salvaged from the disintegrating remains of a wreck from a deep sea, and less penetrable.

In my trance I walked up to the man and grabbed his left wrist and yanked his face closer to mine scanned the source of my discomfort. More than the smell of his aftershave, which must have also been blue, I noticed a lacking in his eyes.

Should I explain my game? Or should I just walk away. “Sorry for stopping you all of a sudden….. And  the manhandling.” Should be explanation enough. And even if it wasn’t, did I care?

Without glancing in the way of the dumbstruck man for a second time, I turned. And as always, I kept on walking towards the metro with my new-found confidence.