Just Random Blogs

High School teaches you a lot: who to befriend; how to adjust your books (definitely weighing less than a feather) in the astonishingly, unrealistically gracious space of your dearest school bag; the importance of handmade notes. Bingo. Here's my point. Notes. Why are they even important when everything is literally in the textbooks? Wouldn’t it be a waste of paper? Notes are anything, anything , but a wastage of paper. From enhancing memory to making revision a piece of cake, notes have a myriad of advantages. Now, I’m not the best at giving top tier advice, but as a note-taking enthusiast (since 6th grade), here are a few tips and tricks that I follow while in the middle of a lecture or class. Coming to my first advice, avoid writing big chunky paragraphs of complex information together. Does your textbook make you sleepy? I bet it does. Ever pondered about the cause? Well, I blame those atrociously gigantic paragraphs of knowledge. Your brain probably takes one look at the len...

Looking for a book that has a lingering sense of suspicion at the end of every page? I’ve got you! Behold, I present to you, ‘We Were Liars’. Where do I even start with this masterpiece? Exploring the themes of mistakes, family problems and greed, this book is a wonderfully crafted novel by E.Lockhart.  Here’s a gist of what it’s about: Cadence Sinclair Eastman is a 17 year old girl who visits her maternal grandparents at Beechwood Island - their private island (yes, they are RICH) - every summer. However, something is “off” about summer 17, and she has no clue what it is. The first thing that I would like to appreciate about this book is how lifelike and natural the familiar issues are. The book magnificently captures how innocent lives are victims of greed. What do you think happens to blameless souls when they are exposed to the harsh realities of the world? Well, read the book to find out, I promise you, you will not regret it. Secondly, I genuinely enjoyed reading Cadenc...

Don’t you just love it when you know what (or who) the problem is, yet you don’t know what to do about it (or them), or even better, can’t do anything about it (or them)?  My sight fell upon the disorganized shelves, the haphazard placement of art supplies on my table and the cute, conspicuous culprit: that 4 year old. The cream coloured table cloth was blemished with the hues of cerulean. The shade bled through fabric, just to settle onto the spotless (not anymore) white table. As the blue spot innocently stared at me, I sighed, trying my level best to not let the annoyance and irritation ooze through it. Then, I glared at the preschooler seated on my bed, a marker and a paper in her hand, scribbling mindless ‘designs’ on the paper.  Now, before you label me as a ‘cruel entity’ for speaking so nastily about a child being childish and living their childhood to the fullest, hear me out. Allow me to enlighten you with some context. One (of the many, many millions) of my mo...