Blog Template Fever…

How often do you change the template of your blog? There are many sites which offer new designs, are you interested to Spruce Up Your Blog ?

During an idle gossip with a friend yesterday, he asked me, “Why do you always keep switching over from one blog template to another? It looks so odd”.

I told him, “But variety is the spice of life, we always look for a change - we don’t eat the same food daily, we don’t wear the same clothes every day, we look for something different”.

My words made him laugh, “Variety is the spice of life – that doesn’t mean you keep changing anything and everything in life”.

He continued “Now, that is nowhere a relevant comparison which you are doing; how food and clothing can be compared with blog structure?”.

“Dude, life is more exciting when you try to do things in different ways. Blogging is just a hobby and I see it as a platform to meet good friends around, do you think changing templates has any significance?” I asked him.

He made a point, “Though I’m lazy to write a comment, I still read every post on your blog and when you keep changing templates, it is such a big distraction to a regular reader like me”.

I was surprised, “So you feel that it is better to stick on to one template and live with that all the time. Anyway, I’m going to make this chat of ours as a blog post, read it tomorrow”.

He enquired, “What is there in this to write?” I replied, “To take opinions from my other friends as well”. After his advice, I switched back to my previous template and decided to hang on to it for long.

Well, do you agree with my friend’s opinion? Does changing a blog template often, really distract regular readers?

I'll Pay, Wait I'll Pay...

“Join me at the restaurant for lunch at sharp 1:30pm”, invited a close friend. He insisted, “Make sure that you are on time”.

I reached the place by 1:20pm and after my patience was put to rigorous test, our hero finally arrived at 2:15pm and said, “Hey buddy, am I a little late?”

I looked at my watch and then stared angrily at him, “Little late? Forty five minutes?” He responded by giving helpless expressions.

We started our lunch. The various tasty and lip-smacking South Indian cuisines unleashed a never-felt-before kind of gluttonous appetite in both of us.

After our heavy lunch, we still managed to eat desserts making sure that the tag of gluttony is attached to the table we sat. Then came the bill and the waiter was expecting a handsome tip cause the bill, like our stomachs, turned heavy too.

“The bill is mine, I’ll pay it”, I said to my friend. “Wait, I’ll pay it cause I was the one who invited you here”. So saying, we both laid our hands on the bill and managed to pull it towards each other.

My friend was left with the lower piece and I got the upper piece as the waiter gave a weird expression looking at the torn bill.

We assured the waiter, “Well, our friendship is so very strong that every time we both eat outside, we end up tearing the bill.”

I continued, “Look at these items here in my piece, I’ll be paying for them and for those in his piece, he’ll be paying, got it right?”

My friend gave finishing punch to the waiter, “Dear, don’t get excited for a double tip, your tip will be given only by one of us because we don’t fight for paying tips”.

Man in Pink Socks...

“You look like a perfect gentleman”, I said as I shook hands with my cousin at one of our relatives wedding. He said, “Thanks a lot man, for such a wonderful compliment”.

A little later, we sat in the guest chairs. “My Goodness, let me just take back my compliment”. His face turned pale as he heard me say that. “Hey, gimme back the compliment, what’s the matter?” he enquired.

“Man, you wore your wife’s socks”. He rose with spontaneity,” They are not my wife’s socks they are totally my stuff”.

“They are yours? Really? Man, how could you ever think of wearing a pair of pink socks along with black leather shoes? And there seems to be even some design on them?” He argued, “Ohh these are not actually pink socks, they are sort of brown”.

I gave a puzzled look, “Sort of brown?” . He agreed soon, “Well yes, your eyesight is fine the colour is not brown but not exactly pink either. Actually the problem is I have only two pairs of socks, the dark one I wore to office today, so it’s into washing”.

“You wore a cotton rich sky blue shirt from Van Heusen, jet black formal trousers from Allen Solly and this belt it’s a good one I guess”. He carried on, “Yes, this is a genuine Italian black leather belt and the shoes I wore are designer ones with pure black leather giving the right shine”.

I interrupted, “You prefer luxurious dressing, it’s hard to believe that you have only two pairs of socks and when the dark one goes for washing, you end up wearing these light pink girlish socks to this dinner party”.

He made this point clear, “Socks are not exactly the most visible item of clothing, especially for men, cause our trousers cover till the shoe lace, so any colour would do”. I stopped him, “But when you sit down, they do grab attention, now look at yourself, you can’t cover socks when you sit”.

I continued, “I don’t know why you choose to buy such colours, you have crossed the age of thirty five, you are mature enough not to wear such kiddish stuff”.

“Man, I've not chosen this colour myself, it came along in a set of dozen socks I bought few years ago, all of them slowly worn out and I’m left with these two pairs, I don’t have the habit of buying socks when I go for shopping”.

I was surprised, “You don’t have the habit of buying socks? Man, you have two sons; they will learn these habits from you and will be laughed at in future.” He laughed out to say, “Don’t worry, my sons are too small now, we’ll think of it when they grow up”.

I promised him a gift, “Well, your birthday is still a couple of months away, you will get a box of dozen socks pairs from me as a birthday gift and don’t worry about the colour, all of them will only be jet black”.

He a gave a big smile, “Well, I’ll give this pair to my wife and tomorrow I’m going for shopping, guess what - I will spend the whole evening, only to buy the right pairs of socks which suits my formal dressing”.

“Global Warming” goes out of control...

A couple of months ago, I have attended a seminar along with a friend on “Global Warming” given by a renowned professor in a mini auditorium. We were interested to note useful points and sat in the second row, pretty near to the stage.

The seminar turned out to be so boring that everyone in the hall started feeling uneasy. The professor was stretching every single point all the way from "Kashmir to Kanyakumari". His voice was - like a bullock cart heavily loaded with paddy bags being driven through muddy, cow dung filled village roads.

Three hours passed by and the professor was in his same old ‘snail slow’ rhythm that everyone in the hall were readily waiting for a chance to run away from their chairs.

My friend whispered to me, “Man, this oldie is murdering our patience on the name of global warming; he is eating our brains like fresh chutney."

He continued, "I’m sure, his wife might have left him long back and that made him start this new way of torturing the society on the name of seminars. We should record this seminar on a handy cam and make this grandpa watch it without a break”.

I responded, “It is better to hit our head to a nearby wall instead of listening to such boring lecture. We should have sat in the back rows buddy, look the back seats are already empty, people ran for their lives”.

Finally, the seminar came to an end after three hours forty minutes. People looked so very dull and sad that the atmosphere resembled a condolence meet after a funeral.

Wonder how the end was possible to the Mahabharata of Global Warming?

The audience clapped their hands continuously till the professor got off the stage…