Funkfan

    Why did they call themselves the freedom writers? What was in their prose that set them free? Did they call their prose the freedom writs too? Several years ago, a bunch of teenagers and an inexperienced teacher set out to change the outlook of education. A change that would not only them but, at a later stage, entire communities. What was it that set their hearts, minds and souls on fire? They were all uniquely yet similarly put on the path to self-destruction. Yet, they found that deviation in their paths - correction - their teacher, Miss G helped them find that deviation. A deviation that would lead them towards a great new destiny. Their transportation - writing.
 
   Yes, I am talking about the freedom writers of Woodrow Wilson high, Long Beach, CA. A bunch of teenagers who would've ended up in body bags for any one of America's favorite reasons - drugs, guns, racial hatred, gang wars, anorexia and so forth. Did they? Nope, they survived. They are all alive and spreading the word on how to succeed despite a thousand different reasons to fail. They are spreading the word on how to stand you own feet without trampling on somebody else's head. Most of all they are spreading the word on how strong the human will is and the greater good it can do even in the face of inhuman oppression.

    I am many continents away from these people, but I'm truly inspired. To know that a few lines of prose can transform a lot of lives is to know the power of words, feelings, knowledge, communication and courage.

Human, the only animal that can accomplish this!!

To Find out more about the Freedom Writers :
http://www.freedomwritersfoundation.org/site/c.kqIXL2PFJtH/b.2259975/k.BF19/Home.htm

Oh man....where do I begin. Three months ago, my mother sat me down for a six hour long session on the virtues of a married life. At the end of the session, I finally gave in and said, "yes ma I want to get married. Find me a bride" ( In India, mothers are by a birth right, first and preferred matchmakers for their sons and/or daughters). Bam! what do you know, three months later, I've got about 30 odd marriage proposals. All of my aunts, uncles, cousins, grandma and at least  two match making websites got into the thick of it to bring me the finest brides around the country. WHAT THE HELL?? Man, I'm just a software engineer with an average job, average level of IQ and should I say below average social life. What's more I have no prior experience with being in a relationship (not even a proper crush).

Even I know there is no way any girl would look at me. Yet, here I am 30 odd marriage proposals pitted up against me...waiting for me to pick the girl(s), I want to proceed the dealings with. Like they say, "When the marriage mafia gets to work, they could get Hitler married to Lady Liberty". Somebody please save me. The funniest thing is, I was the one who said "yes" and kicked all this dirt up. Whoever said "listening to your parents was a good thing", was high on crack at the time he said it.

If you thought all of it ends at this, no way. Starting now, I'll have to travel to some or all of these so called prospective brides' homes. I'll have to sit with them and ask stupid questions. Do you want a sample, here's one : "Can you cook a proper south indian meal". At the end of about fifteen minutes of time spent with the bride, I'm supposed to say one of these 2 phrases (a)"Yes I like her", or (b) "No I don't like her". WHAT???
I ain't never been this scared in my life before, but man am I pissing in my pants right now!!!

Well, for the rest of the world that discovered marriage after discovering TRUE LOVE : "COME AND BE BORN TO INDIAN PARENTS".

Yes it does. It's now 3 in the morning. I can't sleep and my mind is so blank,  this single sentence took 30 minutes to get put down.  Being insomniac is even more depressing when every body around you is sound asleep and you can't even switch the television on. What can I say, I'm stuck in a vacuum. There is nobody to rescue me and just that thought depresses me all the more. I just wish at the least that I had a great story or two to blog about.

 I wrote 30 different titles before I got started on this post and title #31 ended up being a perfect match to the subject at hand....err!! on mind. All I want is a couple of hours worth blissful sleep before I start yet another week's drone of my pitiful, slow life. It's been seven weeks since I posted anything here. Busy and bored. What I don't understand about my life is ....how can a person be busy and bored all at the same time. Is it really time for me to switch jobs, or is it that I haven't had a decent vacation in months?? Now I know why depressed people turn suicidal sometimes. It's so fucking easy to get stupid when you're alone, bored and sleepless all at the same fucking time. Alright, I guess I'm thinking stupid now. Do you know what happens to computer geeks with below average social lives and sleepless nights....yeah exactly what I'm going through right now.

Okay, that does it. I'm done writing about this stuff, for today.

Nothing has changed since my previous post. Except, that I've made significant advances with my sketching abilities. Yet again, the absence of a good camera repels me from putting them up here. All I have is a phone camera and its not very good either. Maybe I should just scan the sketches so they came out better. Blank, that's what my mind is right now. I've always wondered if 'blank mind' is even a valid expression. Cluttered and clouded is more like it...I think. Somehow, the good language that goes into so many of my official mails does not go into my journal entries. Maybe I'm not so good at writing when I'm conscious that no one except me is going to be reading it. These two that I've put up below are some of my older ones. I'm getting there though. Slowly but surely I'll be able to post entries with art that's as good as Mr MutleyJames( http://mutleyjames.livejournal.com) and everybody else. ciao

I've had a lousy, boring day so far. So I figured I'd post another journal entry and bore the rest of the world too. Work's pretty slow today and the damned clock ticks even slower. At this point I'm just praying for a meteorite to strike down and speed things up a bit. I know, wishful thinking right. My office allows employees to listen to music while working and it's the only thing that's keeping me from screaming. Praise the lord for making man discover music. Okay this post is done. Who else is bored today???(That's an understatement considering the ways of the world). One of my doodles, that I re-doodled.

Nope. An artist is a person who can truly express himself through lines, shapes and color. I've got a long way to go yet.