Murder?

It feels terrible. I have to confess that I just murdered two of my blogs, supposedly in a fit of anger, and now repenting it.

Though I am happy that I confessed that to K. I propose to redeem the crime by regularly posting on this blog. She's probably right in saying that I shouldn't have erased my precious pieces of writing just because I didn't like a part of my past. It seems so awful that there existed a huge iceberg three or four days ago and all credit to her, it was broken. I'm committing too many crimes these days. Lying, troubling people, murdering creations, and the list is endless. On crime, came across this wonderful quote in Ian Fleming's Goldfinger:

"Prohibition is the trigger of crime".

The cerebrum in my brain is so screwed up that thinking and writing seems to be the only answer. Circumstances in the present don't seem too conducive for retaining faith in God. But there doesn't seem to be an alternative. Reminds me of John Milton and his unflinching faith in God. So where do I begin with?

Let me introduce the blog picture for the moment. It's a daffodil which I presented to K. I have always had a liking for daffodils because of several reasons. One because they remind me of my uncle singing the poem by Wordsworth of the same name when I was very young. And two because of the inward eye that that poem reminds of. Most of this beautiful world's treasures are captured by that inward eye.

Then I would now reason out why I am called Bjorn Borg for the moment. I think he's one of the greatest people this world has ever seen. Spectacular player apart, he was one of the few successful players of that era who were more gentlemanly and less aggressive. Most others - James Connors, John McEnroe -- over-competitive, over-aggressive.

On competitiveness and aggressiveness in the next post. Hope this blog survives the wrath of my temper.