Quality Quotes #8

Three posts in a day! Admitted, this and the last weren’t very time-consuming, but still.

Anyway, I found another quote that rather appealed to me. And with my bad memory, I would forget about it within the hour. So, I’m just going to put this here.

To succeed in life, you need three things:

A wishbone, a backbone and a funnny bone

-Reba McEntire

What’s Your Favourite Feeling?

What’s one of the best feelings you’ve ever had? For me, it’s the exhilaration at having finished a new series of books, the sense of completion at having ended what has taken hours, or days. It’s the feeling of longing for the story to have gone on for a bit longer, it’s feeling my eyes hungrily devour the words on a page. It’s tapping into the emotions of the characters on the pages, feeling happy when they’re happy, and sympathising with their pain. It’s the awe of seeing in the mind’s eye the spectacular performances of one’s heroes, the crushing sense of despair at the loss of another life in those black-and-white pages that contain so much more than the words that entertain us. They contain the heart of the author.

I just finished Pittacus Lore’s Lorien Legacies series, and boy-oh-boy was it an awesome ending. The story wasn’t any less either. Each twist in the plot, each new development had me aching for more. Alas, all good things come to an end. Christopher Paolini’s Inheritance cycle was –and still is- the best series I’ve read so far. But Lorien Legacies has come as close as no other. At least, none other that I can remember.

To be truthful, I’m writing this because for once, I’m inspired to write something and have no homework bogging me down. Also, once my VMC classes start, I don’t think I’ll have time for much else other than, “Eat, read, sleep”. Don’t worry, though. I’ll do my best to keep this blog up to date.

This was mainly an outpouring of whatever was going on in my head after finishing United as One. I would’ve ranted on longer but was called to do a two-minute job. It broke my stream of thought. No matter, this miniature rant is getting long enough. I hope you enjoyed. I certainly did.

What I want to be…

I got this as a topic for a writeup, in school. I like what I wrote, and whenever that happens it comes up on this blog. I haven’t been active lately, what with getting the hang of a new school, going to 11th (really, CBSE should try and smoothen down the quadruple-or-so jump in syllabus between 10th and 11th. That is not how you challenge students), and basically trying to mentally accept that I’m gonna have a lot more work now. Anyway, moving on…

The Writeup

What do I want to be? I don’t really know. It’s not something I’ve devoted much thought to. Sure, people (read: nearly everyone) has asked me what I want to be when I grow up, and my standard reply is “software engineer.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not exactly the whole truth either. Really, all I wan to do is something -anything- I love doing. Additionally, whatever I do should pay well. It isn’t exactly a positive thing, but the world runs on money and there isn’t much you can do about it.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to end up being a ruthless (dollar) billionaire who loves what he does. But neither am I going to be content with earning a lakh (hundred thousand) of rupees a month for the rest of the foreseeable future. I want to stay a rupee millionaire. Preferably with a few options to grow, and not just monetarily. A successful startup would be nice too. If I don’t have something to work for, then what will I do? In my opinion, life is only going to be worth living if you have something to work for. Something that will get you to punch the wall in frustration. Repeatedly. Something that you can spend weeks sweating over.

In short, I want to do what I will enjoy doing, earn money (more than I need, less than Mukesh Ambani) and always have a challenge to beat.

What happens when I’m bored

What’s up everyone? I’m enjoying that one week of freedom we schoolguys get in India before we start the next grade. Anyways, I was bored as hell, so I started to do weird things to music. I imported them into Audacity, and applied some effects. Turns out, every song can be sung by chipmunks with two minutes’ worth of work and a bad sense of humour. I thought I’d upload the results of my activities on Side To Side by Ariana Grande. The file (.wav) as exported by audacity is 40MB, for some reason. And exporting as an mp3 is a process I haven’t got around to implementing yet (I need to add some DLLs). Anyway, you can find the file right here

Long Time!

Hey! I couldn’t post because I had (have) exams. Also, learning Python takes time, but is well worth the effort, and that’s actually what I’m up to in this little week I have. Keep checking back to find more stuff that I’ll post. Thinking of a QualityQuote. In the meantime, Adios!

Another Cool Poem!

Hi! Remember that post of my favourite poems? Well, I found another one. Here it is:

The Rime of The Ancient Mariner (Parts I & II of VII)

It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
‘By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp’st thou me?
The Bridegroom’s doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
May’st hear the merry din.’
He holds him with his skinny hand,
‘There was a ship,’ quoth he.
‘Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!’
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.
He holds him with his glittering eye—
The Wedding-Guest stood still,
And listens like a three years’ child:
The Mariner hath his will.
The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:
He cannot choose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.
‘The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,
Merrily did we drop
Below the kirk, below the hill,
Below the lighthouse top.
The Sun came up upon the left,
Out of the sea came he!
And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea.
Higher and higher every day,
Till over the mast at noon—’
The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.
The bride hath paced into the hall,
Red as a rose is she;
Nodding their heads before her goes
The merry minstrelsy.
The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,
Yet he cannot choose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.
And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he
Was tyrannous and strong:
He struck with his o’ertaking wings,
And chased us south along.
With sloping masts and dipping prow,
As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of his foe,
And forward bends his head,
The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,
And southward aye we fled.
And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous cold:
And ice, mast-high, came floating by,
As green as emerald.
And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen:
Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken—
The ice was all between.
The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around:
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises in a swound!
At length did cross an Albatross,
Thorough the fog it came;
As if it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God’s name.
It ate the food it ne’er had eat,
And round and round it flew.
The ice did split with a thunder-fit;
The helmsman steered us through!
And a good south wind sprung up behind;
The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariner’s hollo!
In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,
It perched for vespers nine;
Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white Moon-shine.’
‘God save thee, ancient Mariner!
From the fiends, that plague thee thus!—
Why look’st thou so?’—With my cross-bow
I shot the ALBATROSS.
The Sun now rose upon the right:
Out of the sea came he,
Still hid in mist, and on the left
Went down into the sea.
And the good south wind still blew behind,
But no sweet bird did follow,
Nor any day for food or play
Came to the mariner’s hollo!
And I had done a hellish thing,
And it would work ’em woe:
For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow!
Nor dim nor red, like God’s own head,
The glorious Sun uprist:
Then all averred, I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist.
‘Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,
That bring the fog and mist.
The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,
The furrow followed free;
We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea.
Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
‘Twas sad as sad could be;
And we did speak only to break
The silence of the sea!
All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody Sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the Moon.
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.
About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch’s oils,
Burnt green, and blue and white.
And some in dreams assurèd were
Of the Spirit that plagued us so;
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow.
And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.
Ah! well a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung.

An Endnote

You might (should, probably would’ve) noticed that I’ve only put the first two parts. That’s because I’ve only really read those two, and will gradually update this post if I find others are worth mention. So, keep up!