aS-Featured: I'm Not The Only One

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One who reads, writes. As promised, We keep bringing to you 'aS featured' where we publish select ‘arbit speculations’ submitted by our readers to us. Chaitanya Krish speculates on his 'imagined' experience. Do you think you might have some arbit speculation that might be worth featuring? Send it in to arbitspecs@googlegroups.com. We're waiting, readers and writers!

"May I come in Sir..??" 
That voice brought me back to the classroom. It was alive, like a symphony, only starting with a crescendo and never coming down. It had a certain purity and an undefined  rhythm to it. It was the voice of an angel. 
She was searching for a seat anxiously and  that's when our eyes met. With a half smile on my face, and anticipation in my mind, I signaled her to sit in the empty seat beside me, with my eyes.  The class was almost half empty. She could have sat anywhere in the class. She had no reason to accept my awkward invitation. But, when you want something with all of your heart , the universe conspires and brings it to you. Now my relationship with the universe was a bumpy one. The universe usually screwed me every time it got a chance, but that day, it chose not to.  She smiled silently and came towards me and took the seat beside me. My heart was beating slower and faster, the same time. I had butterflies in my stomach, who refused to settle down.  
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aS Shorts #1: With an Umbrella half opened.

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Hiatus brews ideas. Here's a new one.
Presenting to you, aS shorts - short stories that will melt like butter on warm hearts. Enjoy.
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aS Shorts #1: With an Umbrella half opened.

"Oh no, not again! What's wrong with Mumbai!!!" I exclaimed as a perfectly fine Mumbai evening turned first into a drizzly walk to the bus stop and then with some 100 more steps left, cruelly went on to pour heavily. Talking angrily to myself I begun to open my blue bordered umbrella. "You can't trust anything here. Struggle for everything. This is just not done!" And BEST bus 172 overtook me, quite literally. With an Umbrella half opened, I realised that this was the bus I was supposed to catch.
With an Umbrella half opened, I ran!
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NaMo, are 100 smart cities a smart promise?

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I love Monday Morning Meetings for more than one reason. You have grudgingly mourned the end of a weekend and have managed to bring your languid body to the office with great trouble and voila! Before the hectic week begins, you have a ten-minute joy ride to paradise where everyone, from the boss to the peers, talks about their exotic weekends – given the limitations of living in a city as dense as Mumbai. You relive every microsecond all over again like a power capsule that leaves you refreshed and energized.
Today’s meeting was going to be slightly different. On Friday, the week had ended with BJP’s victory, touted as a landslide-win against the Congress. And the weekend had seen conversations among joggers in parks all over the country waiting with bated breaths while pondering which direction the change would pioneer in.
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On language, cognition and nothingness.

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To talk about all that in just one post, keeping up with your interest level, is a challenge for my language,difficult for my cognition and will eventually end up in nothingness. So pardon me for trying to put too much stuff in one.

I won't take stand for or against the populist Gladwell bashing (for Outliers, that is) and simply move on to the point he makes regarding the chinese language and mathematics.




http://paulscottinfo.ipage.com/history/mark/mhh.html

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