Thursday, December 29, 2011

I never meant to do this to you.

"Fuck man. How could she do this to me. After all I did for her."

"Umm what a minute. Let me get my facts right. What SHE did to you? And I had been thinking that she was the one who had been unfair-ly treated. "

"Dude whatever. She fucking slapped me. In front of the whole crowd. She could have waited for the party to end. We could have talked it out. She ll have to pay for this."

"Yeah right whatever."

"Hey, hey I ll call you later, okay?" Aakash said and hung up. Frustrated how unreasonable and unsupportive his best friend Shivam sounded and going through the affairs that happened to him that day he accelarated the car harder. Moving at a speed of 100km per hour on a deserted road all he could think of was how Tanvi had slapped him in front of his friends. His fault of cheating on Tanvi seemed irrelevant and of no importance to him.

He suddenly thrusted the brakes bringing the car to a standstill. Getting out, he shouted, "Holy fuck Tanvi! What the hell are you doing here?"

There beside a huge tree stood a girl with hazel green eyes and long black hair down her back, in a short white dress barely covering her knees and with curves that a guy could kill for.

"My car crashed" said Tanvi without making eye contact with him.

"Where's your car" Aakash asked looking for it.

"Its further down the road, I had started walking towards the town looking for help" She said.

Suddenly forgetting the affairs of the day Aakash held her by her arm and motioned her towards his car.

"Come, I ll drop you home" he said. Without much of a protest she quietly sat in the car.

Aakash shut her door, walked to the driving seat and without another question started driving back to the city.

There was like a storm of questions going inside Aakash. There was alot he wanted to ask, alot he wanted to say. Suddenly all the fury came back to him. He suddenly had an urge to stop the car and choke Tanvi to death. He was that infuriated. But then he looked at Tanvi and suddenly his mind became clear of all his thoughts. She looked so fragile. So breakable. Tanvi was looking down at her feet moving them awkwardly.

Another sudden move of her feet and her legs some what slightly parted making her already short dress go shorter and making the whole of her legs visible to Aakash. On seeing this, Aakash's heartbeat suddenly grew faster. All fury, all bad things he wanted to say to her vanished in the fraction of that second. Now all he could think of was how beautiful and hot Tanvi was looking right now. Her skin glowing angelically and how the tiniest hint of her cleavage made Aakash feel that the front of his pants had grown tighter. Finally realizing that he couldn't concentrate on the road another second he stopped the car. Tanvi stared at him blankly. Aakash gently stroked her cheek and kissed her, slowly moving his lips to hers. Their lips moved in time with each other and Aakash raised his hands up to her hair tangling his fingers in it. 
"I - Love - You" panted Aakash through the kissing and touching. That did it for Tanvi. She let out a soft moan and with a red glint in her eye smiled to herself …

"Oh my god. How is that even possible? It is just last week......



What non sense. Yeah he was drunk.. But...

No he didnt call me back

Yeah I was out of station for work so I couldnt find the time to call him.

No but...


Shivam put down the phone. Shocked at what he had just been told. Aakash his best friend suddenly gone missing. Tear trickled down his cheek. He suddenly remembered Tanvi and being the only mutual friend of Tanvi and Aakash he was pretty sure no one would have asked her yet if she had been contacted by Aakash.

He picked up his phone again and dialed.

"Hello? Aunty can I talk to Tanvi? Whhaaat? Wheeen? How?"

The receiver fell out of his hands. His legs suddenly started shaking and he grabbed the nearest bedpost for support. Because what he had just heard was too much information too be beared in a single day.

On learning that Aakash had cheated on her, Tanvi had commited suicide by jumping off the building on the day of the party.

P.S: Credits: One.Life.Many Moments.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Kinect-powered autonomous robots cook popcorn, make sandwiches

The point of having a bot for a cleaning may be one move more specific.Thanks to a robotics team from the Degree of Munich (TUM). They have developed a number of impartial applications that are able to create range treats and create treats using a Console xbox kinect indication from Passion. Is there anything that side-line can not do?

Named John and Rosie, the awesome thing about these two automated cooks is that they use real understanding to get their responsibilities done. Relevance that the actions and actions involved in the preparing your recipe process are not pre-programmed actions. There can be confirmation of this as the duo create small problems such as dropping the toaster location with a element of bread and dropping a few treats parts when providing them into a providing.

The team gained this success along with TUM’s Psychological Bot Conclusion System application, known as CRAM for shorter. Using research that CRAM had already attained, students provided John and Rosie “brains” of a form.

The applications have the features of acknowledging actual physical objects around them, using those identifications to phone up the different uses items has. For example, when John identifies a toaster, its laptop or computer development allows it to know that the merchandise or service is used in the process of making done bread. What is even more wonderful is that using these Console xbox kinect system, both applications are outfitted of acknowledging presentation needs like “make me a dish.” When the duo understands that management, they will evaluation their surrounding and be able to identify what components are at palm to take out the work.

Popcorn and treats are not the only things that John and Rosie can create, they can also management hot desserts for day dish readers. You can see the complete film of the duo in methods below.

Source :

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Families. And. The. Inflicted. Mental. Torture.




"Now this has to be right" my inner voice screamed at me.


Fairly content with the tone I said it in and the expression, I turned my back towards the mirror and leaving the room started descending the stairs.

You know you are a social outcast when you have to rehearse greetings before going in public. 

I instantly tweeted.

Once downstairs I saw of family of four people sitting in my drawing room. The elder male of the family looked in his mid fifties with a pot belly that could easily replace the tea table in front of him. His wife and evidently the main head of the family sat munching the samosas kept in front of her and chatting constantly, her ill attempts to hide her age evident in her badly dyed black and white hair.

Along sat a boy who looked like he had never known a world where gym existed or even hair gel for that matter. A crisp shirt, glasses, hair center parted, shining shoes, and a phone that made Nokia 1100 look chic. Yes, all perquisites were present. I could bet my life he would be an engineer.

There were so few people present in the room it was surprising someone could go unnoticed. But there she sat, a lean girl in her twenties wearing the simplest of salwaar kameez that suddenly made me feel overdressed. Middle parting again (that somehow made me feel it was a family trade mark), oiled hair and eyes that never left the ground.

"Haan bahot hi sona munda hai. Koi aib nahi. No non veg, no drinking, no smoking. 5 lakh ka package hai."

Now this is a regular discussion topic around my place. And that's how they select boys for marriage these days. It doesn't matter if he is a violent person, if he is a womanizer or if he has raped a girl. If he has a decent salary 'package' and if he doesnt eat non-veg, doesnt drink/smoke he is the perfect groom you can get for your girl.

"Beta yeh aapke Punjab wale Mamaji hai." My mom introduces, as if we talk about them all the time. With an expression of 'Oh.Acha Woh Mamaji' I greet them with a namaste and others as well and sit down looking very interested in the conversation.

"Aajkal toh internet se hi sab kuch hojata hai." Mamaji said. And he went about explaining how they found a suitable groom for their daughter whose suitability was judged and finalized upon in a matter of 10 days.

After an hour of explaination and appreciations about the prospective groom's property in a decent cloney (and no its not a process of replicating sheep nor the last name of George. Its merely an area where people live. Like Defence Cloney), his family and what-not while the girl sat and blushed, I knew I had to leave.

Taking leave and entertaining myself with a re-run of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, I didnt notice when the-engineer-guy creepily came into the room.

"Arey yeh toh wahi hai na jisme wo ladki Pobi apni billi ke liye gaana gaati hai?"

"You mean Phoebe?"

"Nah. I always watch with subtitles and I am pretty sure it spelt p-h-e-o-b-e"

At a loss of words, (my inner voice LOLing) I could only utter "Ok. I might be wrong."

But then something happened which scared the living shit out of me. The Mamaji peeked into the room and talking to 'the engineer' muttered "oyee Mrooti ki Chaabi dio. Me saaman kad lawa."  (Let me take out the luggage.)

Yes. They were staying for the night. And worse. The engineer and the to-be-bride were going to share my room.

P.S: Something which was somehow unnerving was the fact how my mother felt so 'at home' with these people and how the to-be-bride was somehow the role model my mom wished me to be.

P.P.S: Needless to say, they suggested my Mom that she should make me wear Salwar-kameez more often and force me to cook. "Sade zamanech ta asi saare tabar leyi roti bnande see."

Monday, December 5, 2011

PlayBook sell-off expenditures RIM half a billion dollars

When a company features people an motivation, they give up a little bit of revenue in the wants of raising sales. That is what RIM did to the BlackBerry PlayBook lately — and man, did they ever give up. According to RIM’s Q3 financial announcement, they are composing off $485 thousand in PlayBook-related failures.

The announcement sent RIM stocks eroding to $17, the same price they fetched at the beginning gong on Friday day. The distinct fall damaged week-long results, and toss an even longer darkness on the Canada technology poster young children.

It was not all gloom and problems, luckily. RIM delivered around 14.1 thousand BlackBerry mobile phone devices in the third fraction, which is certainly outstanding. Based on what we generally go through about RIM currently, you will think they were having problems all the way around. In fact, they are still promoting mobile phone devices, still offering high-margin business services to organizations around the planet, and still dancing.

And PlayBook lovers, take heed: RIM promises that it’s not going to back down the way HP did with the TouchPad. RIM’s cherubic frontman Robert Laziridis says the PlayBook is still a gripping pill, and he’s assured that the March up-date to OS 2.0 will make it even more eye-catching to people.

That up-date is offering several important parts of features to the PlayBook. Moreover to including long-absent mail, work schedule, and acquaintances applications, Android mobile phone app service is originating. In fact, when designer Bob Go lately based his PlayBook, he acquired that the PlayBook can run the Android mobile phone Market app and even obtain and set up applications — without any need to use RIM’s repackaging techniques.


Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Fumbling with the new camera. :]

A waste that doesnt look like one.

Macro Shot.


I ll always love you, no matter how tough the times.

Lets fly together in the world, and never look back.


No its not THAT finger.

Waking up and looking like a mess.

Let the light make you free. Let it be your savior.

P.S : Simple task. Tell me they are good or bad? AndAnd which is your favorite.

P.P.S: Do not tell me the captions suck. 

Monday, November 28, 2011

Chinese Students Built "iPad" for his Girlfriend

What is the best way to show a girl you love her? Sure, you can always buy the iPad, but why not build one for him?

Chinese art students wanted Wei Xinlong to demonstrate its commitment to its long-distance girlfriend by building a tablet PC with touch screen in their daily life dates for video chat. This way, when he left to work in Shenzhen, they will be able to stay in touch easier.

As a student at the University of North normal in Changchun, Jilin, Wei was familiar with electronics and engineering, and found most of the answers to the questions I had online. He bought most parts of the unit second-hand market and dismantled laptop recovered. Even incorporates some of the parties as a conductor of heat from a soda can and an aluminum bar. Wei has been dedicated to the unit for 10 days before the end, and even managed to put an Apple logo with rhinestones on it.

Characteristics of its "iPad" includes touch screen, integrated camera, microphone, four USB slots, a LAN port and works as a lithium battery. It may be a step back from Apple's best selling product, but still not able to read e-books, watch movies, listen to music and even play video games. It costs only 800 yuan Wei (126 dollars) to build than the price of about $ 500 Apple iPhone.

Wei remarkable final product is really a representation of hard work and dedication. It will definitely strengthen their long distance relationship and her boyfriends around the world to shame.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Being a girl is the last thing you would want to be.

Do you want to be girl? Like, Forever?

The answer to this statement being a ‘YES’ is as rare as a good hair day on your first date. Especially if you are an Indian. I have nothing against my country but when it comes to being born as a girl, India would be the last place I would like to be born into.

The only day you might have wanted to be girl would be when you accidently went to an interview without fully buttoning your shirt and your man boobs just quite didn't impress the boss, or when you had to hand over your 'hard-earned' money to your sister on Rakshabandhan.

If you still say yes “I would gladly be a girl” answer me:

Do you want to be ranked on a scale of Nicole Richie to Scarlett Johansson on the basis of your size of your boobs by random roadside people on the street as soon as you leave your house?

Do you want guys to look at your tits instead of your eyes and pinch your ass instead of shaking your hand?

Do you want to be offered a job because somewhere in the back of your boss’s mind he thinks that you might be very good in bed and he has a chance?

Do you want to be called a slut just because you wear revealing clothes?

Do you want to be raped and then hear it was your fault because you were wearing a mini skirt?

Do you want to see your brother attend all night parties but not going yourself because, well you are a girl?

Do you want to be called characterless just because you have slept around with more than one person unlike a guy, who is called a stud?

Do you want to reconsider your option of wearing white according to the weather?

Do you want to be stared at when you walk into a room where people are telling a dirty joke and they awkwardly stop midway at seeing you?

Do you want to wait an hour to find a decent washroom on a road trip?

Do you want to be paid less for an equal amount of work that a male colleague does?

Do you want to buy condoms with the shopkeeper imagining you naked?

Do you want to writhe in pain bleeding every month?

Do you want your parents to fuss over wherever you go, because they think everyone is going to rape you?

Do you want every guy commenting ‘hot’ on your Facebook picture just because it has a slight glimpse of your bra strap?

Yes I thought so too. You don’t have to worry about permissions when le`ving the house. You don’t have to worry about any pain or bleeding when losing virginity. You don’t think twice before introducing your girlfriend to your family. You don’t need to act dumb to make a girl notice you. You don’t have to worry about your underwear glimpsing while doing weights in the gym. Unlike a girl, you just have to have sex to have a baby.

You don’t get people lecturing you about problems in future pregnancy if you smoke or drink. The girl’s parents do not assume the fact that you are a Sanjeev Kapoor when you marry. Your name and your parents live with you forever.(or till when you want). You do not have to bear with the pain of hot wax (especially nowhere near your private area.) You do not have to worry about making crotch adjustments in public. And this is a list when we are talking about a girl who is born in a middle class family who have somehow managed to break free of the clutches of ancient practices of not educating the girl child.

Being a girl is very difficult. But its not like we had a choice. The very least that you can do is respect us.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Why take the pain again and again to prove me dumb? Why God?

I am dumb.
I guess somewhere in my heart I already knew this, but this doesn’t stop the universe to play all saah-bahu-saajishey on me and prove it again and again.

I was slogging merrily hopping towards my gym. After 5 childish hops and ensuring that there were no bumps on the path behind I climbed three level of stairs. Much to my surprise I survive them every day.

This is the time when I wish I had a ghode-pe-sawar prince for myself and he would carry me in his arms and climb those stairs. Needless to say if that ever happened I ll be in jail for boy-manslaughter.
After what felt like two hours of workout (though somehow magically the clock had just moved from 6.30 to 6.40) I got off the treadmill and my throat being as dry as a nun’s gusset I knew I had to drink water.
Let’s pause here and tell you some pre-requisites to the scene.

Our gym is this hi-fi (or so it likes to delusion itself into believing) thing, and for showing off there 'hi-fi-ness' they have these huge automated glass doors like the ones they have at Big Bazaar where I constantly  run inside and outside in awe just to check their motion sensor and then drop my lower jaw gazing at God’s miracle. 
They have the same only it’s not controlled by motion sensors but fingerprint recognition machines from the outside and a simple open/close switch from the inside.

Cruel Bh&%$$o3's that they are, they make us leave the gym and climb another set of stairs (as if we aren’t dead zombies already) so that to reach the place where there is the drinking area and washrooms.
Now lets replay where we left.


So I picked up my phone and went to the (Oh-my-fucking-god-how-big-is-this) gate. Pressing the open switch, just as I was on the verge of walking out, I heard a girl scream. I turned back and realised it was just another group of girls-screaming-and-hugging-couple. I ignored and continued on my walk-to-drinking place-mission.
Now don’t blink your eyes.
This is what happened.


Yes. The door had closed and I had crashed (with my nose broken and face splattered) with the glass door.
And as I am God’s naughty kid he takes it out on me. Usually when I gym (secretly hoping to socialize) it is as empty as Ram Gopal Verma ki Aag’s opening show. But that day it had to be Bodyguard.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

She is with me, always have, always will.

And forgettting how miserable she felt just a second before, forgetting how my words somehow hurt her to the core, forgetting that she had just announced to me 'I wont ever talk to you ', she hugged me.

Melting down at my apology she hugged me like she never wanted to let go. Steering the car with my right hand I put my left hand around her, hugging her tighter just to let her know that the feeling was mutual. Minutes passed. Her mood came back to normal evident by her constant switching of radio stations. Complaining how she missed the best line of her favorite song , and demanding a chocolate like a five year old. Yes she was back.

We stopped in front of our regular confectionery shop. But now was the hardest part. Winning the argument of who ll go out of the car and come back with the Dairy Milk Silk, her favorite. After a hundred 'no-you-go's', like most of the times I lost, while she grinned at me with an expression of utmost achievement.

"I cant go every time, you know? Someday I might not be here then what will you do?" she teased. Defeated already I snapped back, "First if you wont be, there will be no point in getting a chocolate since its you who is being a chocolate obsessed monster not me. Second even if I ll feel like eating one, I ll ask my new girlfriend to get it for me." The instant I mentioned the words 'new girlfriend' she snorted and started pinching me. Defending myself I hastily got out of the car.

We were the mushy couple. The mushy couple who didn't mind being called that.

There wasn't a single person we knew who wouldnt agree on the fact that we would be together for atleast a minimum span of forever.

Even our fights weren't taken seriously, they were sure on two facts always, first, that the issue was about a non-significant thing, and second, that we would be back together in lesser time than would take to explain why the fight started in the first place.

I never doubted her love for me, it was somehow really evident in her eyes. It had just been a year since we had been together but it felt that I never had a life before that. I never understood how I survived before she came into my life. Life lacked meaning, there wasn't a purpose for which I lived. I didn't look forward to the next day.

But then 'she' happened to me. After four months of liking, admiring her, making up conversations in my mind that never happened, and secretly glimpsing at her I gathered the guts to talk to her.

After that although we rushed into the relationship it never felt like it. As she always said, 'When its right, you don't need to wait.'

It was special. She was my best friend. From the incidents of my past to the colour of my poop, I could tell her everything and not be ashamed or embarrassed about it. She was family. My foremost priority.

With me she was a completely different being. Someone she actually was. Her inner self, all bare. For the world she was insensitive, but I had seen her cry. For the world she was funny, but I had seen her feeling lonely and asking to be beside her. With me she was without the walls she had built around her for everyone to see. For her I was someone who could make her giggle hysterically in a second and shatter her in another.

She said she felt protected with me. 'Her Guardian Angel' that's what she called me. "I wont ever let anything get to you" I would promise saying that to her posing like a superhero.

Buy how I wish that promise wasn't broken. How I wish that I wasn't so helpless. How I wish Cancer was just a Zodiac sign.

I don’t wanna run away, 
Baby you’re the one I need tonight,
No promises.
Baby, now I need to hold you tight, 
I just wanna die in your arms.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Rockstar didnt Rock. Not Quite.

The awaited day. 11.11.11

For many reasons.

People getting married. Wishing Aishwarya Rai pushes the child out today.

And many more.
For me, it was about watching Rockstar.

All through my exam hiatus I had been surviving only at the glistening thought of watching Rockstar when exams end.

And yes yesterday the day came.

After a century of meaningless shallow films this movie had my hopes touching sky high. Courtesy it's trailers.

Courtesy the intense looks and magnificent acting of Ranbir Kapoor that the glimpses promised. And courtesy Imtiaz Ali.

Oh. Boy. It was the utter heart breaking moment when the expectations were Kungu Panda-ed and crushed to the ground brutally by the horrible reality.

3 words: The movie sucked.

Its a journey of a downtown naive boy in Hindu College of Delhi University, who wants to be another Jim Morrison,  a journey from Jakhar to Jordan and sequential stops of love, heartbreak and self-realization. Music is Jordan’s identity and the passion for it makes him rich and famous.

But, realization of reaching there incidentally makes it what the film is all about. His connection with the core and portrayal of it on screen by Ranbir is definitely a best .

“There used to be a jungle here, a very dense jungle. Then they built a city, now there are buildings and straight roads. When they built the city, a flock of birds flew away, they never came back. I’m looking for them. Have you seen them?”

The movie is basically about change. The change of priorities.

The first half of the movie is fun-filled and interesting. The shifting of scenes from the present to past are too many and they usually leave you confused.

Life in a Delhi college and the beauty of Kashmir has been nicely captured on screen. Many scenes can be related to specially the secret execursions with Heer played by Nargis Fakhri (she is very beautiful, and lets just keep it at that.)

The second half gets very monotonous and the narration becomes a little weak. The interesting scenes are fast forwarded and the slow and could-be-avoided scenes have been dedicated full length songs. The 'Realism' part is a huge drawback and like every typical Bollywood flick their is out-of-India shooting as well. Prague that is. Sequences are hard to believe and one is left to opine that it is not an Imtiaz Ali film or he was drugged the entire time making it.

The background music by AR Rahman is good(sometimes). The music and songs are capable of drifting you to another world. But the large no. of songs could have been avoided. There is a moment in the movie where you say to yourself if there is another song I ll stab someone. Or myself.

The movie is good in parts. Editing could have been a million times better..

The main problem with Rockstar is the leading lady Nargis, even animated cartoon characters emote better than her. I wish the actress was someone other than Nargis. She looks hot and beautiful at the same time but only if she keeps shut. But when the mouth is open one of the things is surely going to irritate the shit out of you. Either her dialogue delivery or her smile.

On the whole, Rockstar could have been better. A lot. They had a nice plot to play with. But they screwed up. In my opinion. 2 stars for Rockstar. [Just for Ranbir]

Producer: Shree Ashtavinayak & Eros International Media Ltd

Writer/Director: Imtiaz Ali

Lyricist: Irshad Kamil

Music: AR Rehman

Cast: Ranbir Kapoor, Nargis Fakhri, Shammi Kapoor, Aditi Rao, Kumud Mishra, Piyush Mishra, Shernaz Patel

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

The 'Birth-Day'.

Things I shouldn't be doing:

  • Procrastinating.

  • Avoiding bathing, courtesy not having to leave the house the whole day.

  • Giving excuses to my brain how it is okay not to bathe when it is so cold. And the brain nodding like a five year old without questioning the existence of water heaters.

  • Controlling the urge to poop just because I am lazy as fuck to go to the washroom. 

  • Breaking winds later in the room making everyone leave me in solace with my Flatulence. (a.k.a farts)

  • Forgetting brushing my teeth even after that huge poster I glued to the mirror last month that said 'Brush your teeth, while you still have them'.

Secrets have been revealed and you have formed a pretty picture in your brain how I totally resembled a cross between Rakhi Sawant and a Vidya Balan without makeup. (Though makeup doesnt do her any good.)

This and having my birthday after 'n' days of doing 'Things I shouldn't be doing'.

Yes. Blasphemy, right?

But then when your birthday starts with a home made brownie cake studded with gems with Diwali candles used as birthday candles for a lack of better resources,

with you 'accidently' dropping one of the candles on your cousin and it 'as accidently as the previous one' burns the tee-shirt she 'borrowed' from you for infinity,  
with your phone hanging up every second because of the flood of notifications and with the day ending with the most beautiful love letter ever, you are left with nothing to complain.


Home Made Cake      

Flood of notification    

A taxation exam          

Hand made card from HIM and one from Mom.   

The most heartwarming message from a friend      

(describing our journey together from the very start)

A cake again.   
Drugged chilly chicken.   

Mom's yummiest recipe put into place for you.  



Love letter.  

(a one with feelings so great that no fancy words can replace.)

Stomach upset  
Frequent trips to the loo.  

And veryfying and taking in view the above results we under section 91C of  'The ultimate Happiness Act' declare you Miss Gay for the day. (Not gay wala gay. Happy and gay wala gay.)


I’m 20 [its been a whole day that I have been 20] and I feel 19 and I act 15.[ok. 10. No negotiations now.]

I’m young, life still has a lot to teach me [like how to make tea without burning any thing/person and making out of the kitchen alive.] and I’m in no hurry.

I love talking about things, but that doesn’t mean I always know what I’m talking about. . One day I think I figured life out and the next I’m clueless. All I know is that life is happening right now and I don’t want to miss it. But then again I may wake up tomorrow and not feel that way anymore. Yes this is me. The-finally-20-year-old Nia Charms who has decided to live life at her own pace*

*Terms and conditions apply.

And maybe three philosophical lines are enough for the day. [bache ki jaan loge kya?]

P.S: An extract from the card my Mom made me:

Be a jewel in all vicissitudes of life,

for jewel has the same value and lustre

whether it is embedded in clay or is mounted on a crown.

Needless to say, I had to look up 'vicissitudes' in a dictionary.

An extract from the message from the special friend:

Sticks and stones,

May break my bones.

May you sense of humour,

give me a tumour.

You are very weird.

I dont have a beard.

But you are an awesome person.

And I dont know what rhymes with person.
Heart wrenching, right? I was filled with tears.

An extract from the love letter I got:
 If by any chance i get unreasonable, illogical,egoistic ever..Read this letter..Get back to me sweetly by any name you want to..I will be back to normal.
And now you can all switch to the 'Aww-mode'.