I’ve been waiting to blog about this for a long time after the world cup got over. But couldn’t find time due to my extreme laziness. Aaah…today got some patience to sit and key in things. So here it goes…
I’ve been a strange guy all my life. It will look extremely nonsense and a blasphemy if I reveal the reason. I don’t watch Cricket & I’ve least interest in it. Given a choice between a UGC program in DD National on “Neural Networks & Fuzzy Logic with Discrete Mathematics” and an ‘India Pakistan cricket match LIVE’ in ESPN star sports, I would fully oblige to the former one without any grudges and complaint and would never change the channel to peep into the boring score or to check how many wickets are gone!
Ridiculous isn’t it?
“Come on. how can you just don’t watch Cricket?!!!!! Go get a life dude. You suck.”, “All guys go mad on Cricket. Are you a one??”, “I can forget my girl friend for cricket. You are a piece of mud”
I can hear all those voices from behind the monitors.
But I’ve never ever seriously given a thought about developing some interest on it.
“So what’s up now? Why are you wasting my time?” You are asking me.
I have a very interesting piece of information to tell you.
If I caught your mind right, you are just speculating that this post will be all about illegal money business and night clubs flowing whooping quantities of money and wines over wealthy beasts accompanied by skimpy clad beauties and then following dotted, flavored desserts post ‘dinner’ (Papads or appalams I meant!). Well you are in the wrong side of your brain’s hemisphere!
I was about to touch the most ignored topic in the world of inbox and accounts.
Yeah, we never ever cared what is there in the hopelessly unrelated mails that fall in our inbox knowingly or unknowingly. But something that makes me wonder about those spams is, from where in the world do all those pharmacies around the world get our email ids? Leave aside job openings and banks, sending phishing emails expecting us to sign our papers right away and catch a flight to meet some Anderson or Jimmy Paul who ever existed or never existed at all.