What taxation

W2, or the tax form is one document that gets shoved in between the grocery lists till it is the 11th hour. Come April 15th and everyone’s Facebook wall is filled with updates about how much they hate doing taxes. Frankly, filing for taxes is worse than doing laundry, a task so unchallenging that you postpone it till you run out of underwear and are compelled to wear mismatched socks. In one out of my four years of tax filing, I have actually missed the deadline. It is something that keeps sitting like a log in your work schedule and you never want to get started.


However, things get somewhat rosy once you are done with your taxes. As a student, you pay a meager amount as taxes and get most of it as returns. The same continues once you graduate from school but are still on OPT. Last year I actually made a trip to the North after getting my tax returns. This year I was hoping for something similar, wondering whether to go back again when I get tax returns. Things changed and I had to come back, which also meant I needed to finish my taxes a month before the deadline. It took me 2 days to find my W2 hidden in the hinterlands of somewhere and then another 2 days to figure out what I am supposed to do. I was still hoping I would make a small fortune from the tax return money and fund myself a trip for later when I realized with a broken heart that not just do I not get any refunds, but I owe the IRS some 1,000 bucks.

Don’t even ask me about the rationale behind it. Not that I was too interested in listening to the reasoning, given that I was left without a job, without any earning, without someone to fall back on, without any self-esteem, and without a trip. IRS could take all my money, all the social security taxes I paid and got no benefits in return, my savings, my ancestral property, and more if needed, and kiss my big you-know-what !!! No prizes for guessing, I was livid.

If only I could claim the sexy bartender I met at one of the bars as a dependent. If only I could claim buying a new car or a new house. If only I was dating an IRS gal. If only I had carefully saved those receipts of furniture donated to Goodwill. If only there were tax-deductible lay-off packages. If only I was retiring. Or getting myself a brand new wife. Or a job. The possibilities of saving on taxes seem endless now. If only ….

IIM Calcutta - what happened?

Life is full of what ifs.  The earth would not have moved of course, but it was one of the reasons I paid a visit to IIM C on the net through my friends a couple of days ago. That, and professional curiosity.

IIM Calcutta is the 'original' IIM. The first one that came into existence. And yet, despite its MIT lineage, the glorious headstart and impressive enough alumni network, it is now considered to be behind not just IIM A but IIM B. What happened?

Well, I can't provide a conclusive answer but here are a few quick impressions. I know IIM A background may be held against but in my defence I would like to point out I write about B schools and hence make it my business to gather first hand information about as many as possible.

Joka, here I come
The postal address of IIM C mentions 'Diamond harbour'. In the course of a 200 buck taxi ride from Howrah station, you get the full 'experience' of Calcutta. Past the amazing British zamaane ka buildings including the Governor's mansion and the India Government Mint.

Past trams, markets and streets and streets of grimy looking structures which look like they haven't been painted since 1947. The scenery does not improve until you reach the IIM C gate.

Inside, is the most beautiful holiday resort you can check into for two years. Yes, I heard of the 'lakes' but imagined they would be ponds. This is breathtaking.

So are the flowers. I'm told they bloom, all year round.









The whole atmosphere is friendly, not intimidating. I felt awe. I felt humble, insignificant.

In time, the maze of red brick buildings became more familiar and well loved than home. But a sense of this being a larger than life institution remained. That sense is missing at IIM C.

It may sound superficial to say that architecture can make so much of a difference in making or breaking a brand but it's true. When a newspaper has to choose a stock photo to go with any article on MBA, what does he or she do? 98 times out of 100 the photogenic IIM A makes it to print.

And with many other B schools from MDI to MICA also choosing the red brick look, it's more subliminal brownie points for Brand IIM A.

Looking deeper
IIM C grads themselves admit (and proudly so!) that the institute is extremely laidback. Not just in terms of atmosphere but academics. Even in term 1 only 75% attendance is mandatory. 

In contrast no one would dream of bunking in the early weeks at IIM A. Weeks which feel like 'Survivor' episodes although it's rare for anyone to actually get 'eliminated'. But everyone has a few of those nightmares....

IIM B was also laidback and less competitive. Except it was considered to be far far behind IIM C. It was, in fact, known as the 'public sector IIM' because that's where its grads generally got jobs.

Then, several things happened. A director who was earlier a faculty member at IIM A fiddled around and made the B program more 'tough'. More importantly, Bangalore's rise as an 'IT capital' saw its stock as a city zoom while Calcutta was stagnating. Placements at IIM B caught up with A and C to a large extent.

Then, circa 2000, a Business Today survey made IIM B the 'no 1' B school in the country. A ranking no one believed but had its shock value.

The next year, A regained its no 1 position but B was now ranked ahead of C in almost every survey. Yet, IIM C and its alumni remained complacent. 'Who believes these surveys anyways?' was their defence.

Which is true but a combination of all the above factors led to a 'tipping point'. Students who had the choice started opting for IIM B to C. Guided by buzz from seniors and advice from coaching institutes.

IIM B I would say there is a sense of forward movement, new ideas, new initiatives on that campus. The PGPSEM program - a 3 year part time course for software professionals is a big hit and will soon be extended to Hyderabad and Chennai. IIM C too has several executive programs but none is a brand name as such.

IIM B has set up an Incubation centre funded by Infosys' N S Raghavan, IIM C has a centre for entrepreneurship and innovation but it seems to be a far more armchair variety than hands-on.

Bangalore being a far more happening city also has an impact in terms of attracting faculty. The faculty list at IIM C is over 90% Bong. Now you can argue that is because Bengalis are one of the few communities naturally inclined towards academics. But the faculty at both IIM A and B is far more mixed.

So it does appear as if sentimental attachment towards Calcutta might be a deciding factor for an academic choosing to work at IIM C. And that very factor may put off others. A friend who taught at IIM C for some time found the city rather dead and oppressive.

That's changing, with Calcutta - and Bengal in general - now playing 'catch up' with the rest of India. But the Joka campus also needs to join that game.

Er, world class?

 Whatever the intellectual prowess of IIM C may be, some of the infra structure sucks big time. The hostels are shocking - ancient, lower middle class looking structures.The rooms are tiny- you can barely fit in one bed, and study table. The corridors are full of wooden racks where junta's underwears and banians hang to dry.

 Yeah, one of the hostels is 'co ed' (but there's a separate wing for girls - they don' actually have rooms next to each other). That one seems to have rooms with modest balconies. But the overall impression is 1960s, Marxist style living quarters. Peeling paint, rust, lack of maintenance.

IIM A dorms are, in contrast, far better. Even there, much needs to be done to upgrade the old campus housing upto the standards of the new campus. But at IIM C I think entire hostel blocks need to be demolished and rebuilt.

Meanwhile, adding a few modern amenities like a washing machine and mini fridge wouldn't hurt. To attract international students - as IIM C hopes to - these changes will be absolutely necessary!

Bottomline
I am sure had I joined IIM C I too would have fallen in love with the place, mosquitoes et al. I too would have fine memories of the 'Howrah Bridge', friends made, times shared etc etc.

I know a bunch of you are going to be quite upset by now... And that the average IIM C grad believes he or she is special, creative and different compared to the supposedly driven, structured and soulless types from IIM A.

But, to a dispassionate and outside eye, there is a lot that can and must be done to the campus. Rankings aside, IIM C needs to regain its clout, become a leader in certain chosen spheres. Right now it appears content to follow where others dare to tread.

A general upgradation of facilities across the board, all over India is in order. I think a tour of Infosys, Wipro and other such gleaming modern campuses should do much to inspire. On the other hand, civic sense needs to improve across the board among all Indians too. Without this, a gleaming, modern, new campus will quickly die of rot.

Well, i suppose the Marxist thoughts do flow over. After all , how long can a capitalist establishment remain without being affected by the unreasonable Marxist crap being talked outside the gates. The apathy has to carry over. Its not the IIM, Kolkata itself has that image of laidbackness, pointless arguments, apathy and gloom. 20 years of Marxism , nay more of Maoism rather than Marxism.

God Bless IIM C. In fact, I hope all IIM'S do well. Wish you success. (disclaimer: i am not an IIMian)

IIM's are so overhyped that people are not even ready to acknowledge the lack of adequate infrastructure. Someone commented on what difference would infra have for a potential B School aspirant. Well wait for another 5 -8 years when many top universities around the world come and establish their campuses ! Do you guys think they would provide the same facilities you have @ IIM- C ?

Why only look at the infra .all the IIM's should dig deeper into their dens and answer some basic questions like : In its so many years of existence why hasn't IIM's produced more than a handful of world class leaders as yet. Why are only most of the CEO's hailing from the Harvard's, and Wharton's of the world ? i guess something is terribly wrong with the system. Having said that I must accept the fact that most of the students who get into any IIM are very intelligent. But once they enter an IIM for most of them as someone rightly put it is a case of " I was born intelligent but education ruined me . "

These are the attitudes of the mind. I can't understand what the point u want to put forward. These sort of comparisons are for which kind of junta......U need not feel nervous as hell about IIM - C's tomorrow. Look at the horizon and its vast expanse, get absorbed by the feeling.

A quick example: IIM A starts a PGP X program (1 year MBA for execs with 7-15 years experience), IIM C follows a few months later. Does it matter who gets there first? Hell, it does!

Perception is reality when it comes to any kind of brand. And right now IIM C seems more slothful than swift. More content to rest on past laurels than carve out a vision for the future. It's time the institute and its alumni wake up and kick some serious butt.

Pyaar ke asli dushman

"So, tell us about the funkiest thing you have ever done on Valentine's Day" was the question on  92.5 FM's "Chennai Voices" on V Day.

Here is one of the 'funky' answers from a female caller...
I got my medical reports yesterday, it had my ECG. So I decided instead of buying a card or flowers let me give this CD to my boyfriend so he can watch my beating heart.

While host Suvarna thinks it's sweet, co-host Shekhar is not too impressed and comments:"You could also look at it as recycling medical reports!"

There's another caller who relates how her friend mentioned that her dream guy would come on a white horse and sweep her off her feet. And what do you know, the boyfriend actually hired a safed ghoda so he could propose to her.

"But what if the horse pooped in the middle of the road?" asked Shekhar. "This is the reason you don't have a girlfriend!" cries an impassioned Suvarna.

And the debate continues. To celebrate Valentine's Day - or not to celebrate - depends on whether you are a Suvarna or a Shekhar.

The important thing is you should be able to celebrate it - if you wish to. And this year, despite the usual threatening noises from the moral police things were peaceful, with a couple of notable exceptions.

If you ask me, however, I would say the biggest pyaar ke dushman aren't these anti-love protestors and activists but Parents.

It is amazing how few Indian parents - even today - know about the special person in their son or daughter's life. There are multiple reasons for this, depending on what kind of parent you happen to have.

a) The Nahin, nahin, kabhi nahin type: This is the old fashioned breed which will simply NOT consider the subject with any kind of open mind. The kids figure out from an early age that if they get into a relationship, sneaking around is the only sensible strategy.

Attitude towards Marriage: Hum hi decide karenge. Apne hi caste ka hona chahiye. Jab raaz khulta hai there are only two options: break-up, or elopment.

b) The 'You can be friends but...": A little more open-minded, though not out of choice but because zamaana badal gaya hai. The parent does not mind the kid having friendships but 'within a limit'. . Which means, look -don't touch!

Nope, no point spilling the beans here either until you are sure he/ she is THE person you wish to spend the rest of your life with.

Attitude towards Marriage: May be openly or secretly heart broken if kid decides to have 'love marriage' (esp with a boy or girl from a different caste). But will accept the decision eventually.

c) The 'It's OK but settle down first..": A variation of the above, this parent positions his or her concerns in the form of the harmful effects a relationship could have on the kid's psyche and studies. So they advise,"In cheezon ke liye aage poori zindagi padi hai, abhi to padhai ke din hain..."

Attitude towards Marriage: If the kid were to conveniently fall in love at age 25 with a well settled office colleague they would happily give their blessings. In fact they would secretly be happy to not have the headache of finding someone suitable...

d) The 'We're cool with it' types: They exist, but in a minority. The Westernised parents who see nothing wrong in having more than one relationship before marriage (and are cool even if you choose to indefinitely postpone tying the knot).

Attitude towards Marriage: It's your life. But if you really want to - we could step in.

So what kind of parent am I going to be, I wonder. Hopefully 3.5. If my son/daughter lied to me, it wouldn't be too hard to tell... I cooked up enough stories in my own youth! So honesty would probably be the best policy.

On the other hand I would be unhappy if he/she went in for a series of shallow physical relationships. I think social pressures and protective parents do make young people in India think twice about casual sex and that is not such a bad thing.

But ultimately, parents and society imposing their will on the youth does not work. They will go through an experimental phase and arrive at a value system of their own. One that may actually be far more 'conservative' that you'd expect.

Although once again, the term conservative means different things to different people... In Bangladesh, the Telecommunications Regulatory Commission recently asked mobile phone operators to discontinue late night free-call facilities. As a newspaper editorial elaborates:

The commission has taken the step after receiving 'numerous complaints from parents and guardians on the ground that the late night free-talk facilities were causing moral degradation and change in the behaviour-pattern and life style of the young generation besides hampering their studies and disrupting disciplined and routine life.

Straddled between conservatism and mordernism, today's youth is more or less confused about which one to adapt - whether to listen to their c1/c2 (majority lies here i believe) parents or whether to sneak and indulge in casual physical relationship. But on the same note, I'm sure most parents themselves are at a loss. They are just not able to decide whether to remain c1/c2 kinda parents (since society demads it) or to be the c4 type and let their kids live a life of their own.

I guess as youth we have to try to understand the dilemma the parents face and not complain that they do not understand us. In a way, their rating is also a function of the age group their children. There are parents who might be in category 2 when their kids are teenagers, but they might shift to 3ish once their kids are well 'settled'. Of course, this doesnt include parents inflicted with caste dogmas.

Note that complaints were supposedly received from parents and not Islamic fundamentalists alone.

So like I said, zamaane se aap lad lenge. Magar pyaar ke asli dushman... unka kya?

Kuch Meetha Ho Jaaye?

Ever woken up in the middle of the night craving for sweets? Naah, I do not mean the American cheese cake or the Black Forest cake, but the typical Indian mithai? I never buy sweets from the Indian stores. Naah, it is not what you are thinking about weight watching and all that crap. I had once bought 10 laddus in all of 4 varieties on a Friday evening, wanting to share it with my wife. The entire weekend I had spent dipped in bucketful of guilt, having eaten all the laddus even before the poor laddus got the chance to see a new week.


People have a sweet tooth. I claim that all my 28 teeth are sweet. And of all the days, I had to crave for sweets when I didn’t even have milk at home. Had it been a kid craving for sweets and throwing a tantrum, I would have pacified it with something else to divert its attention. But how to pacify the kid in me that refused to let go without having something sweet?

Irritated and grumpy with myself, I got out of bed, brushed, and put on my thinking cap. I wish I could go back to sleep fantasizing about sweets, but that was not happening. Think, think, something had to be done to mollify these sudden bouts of sweet craving.

It is then that I heard the next door guy use the microwave. Still awake so late? I could already see my plan taking shape.

* Went out and told him hi, and gave him my sweetest smile.


* Told him that I barely saw him these days and if he was working very hard to get that Nobel prize he rightfully deserved (that was just silly conversation I was making, wink* wink**).

*Opened the fridge and scooped out a whole large spoonful of vegetable curry for him, telling him that this is a North Indian delicacy I was planning to share with him (in truth, that was some curry I was least interested in eating, so in a way, I was trying to get rid of it by feigning hospitality. Arre kya hai, apne Thailand mein to he must be eating lizards and cockroach eggs, so anything else I offered him must be better).

*Delved into the fridge, digging my nose into it and then making incoherent regret moans. Tsk tsk.

* Told him that since I had to keep awake at night studying, I came looking for some coffee, but it’s fine since I did not have milk.

Thankfully, my plan worked and he almost jumped at me, trying to strangle me for not letting him help the me in distress. “Oh no milk? Take it from me. And don’t ask me again, if you need for coffee, take it anytime you want”.

I started to act all coy and “no-no, thank you so much but I’ll survive without milk” stuff, but after he left and shut his door and before he could open the door again, telling me that he had changed his mind about the milk and being helpful, I grabbed at it.


Coffee be darned, I filled half the frying pan with milk (What? That was a mini-frying pan, so stop looking at me like that). Put it on low flame and left it that way. But what to do with milk? Think, think.

Suddenly, a brilliant idea hit me (no, I didn't run back to his room screaming Eureka Eureka, ahem !!!). I had this huge packet of cereal I have for breakfast that was quite misleadingly called “Honey bunches of oats with almonds”. I had bought it all greedy about the almond part, only to discover that there was one thin shaving of one-twentieth of an almond for every five spoonful of cereal. So the next 20 minutes was spent ripping open the cereal packet, hand picking the almond shavings, and putting it into the milk. Thankfully, I remembered mom telling someone always to add the sugar last while boiling milk so that it did not get charred.



So for the next 2 hours, the milk with tiny shavings of almond boiled. Two hours later when the milk had almost reduced to half its volume and had a brownish, thicker consistency to it post addition of the sugar, I knew my food was ready. I knew not what I had made of it and if it was an American version of payesh (payasam, kheer, or whatever you call it). But one mouthful and I was going mmmm mmmmmm mmmmm. I thought it tasted a little like rasmalai, a little like rabri (not the Rabri Devi wali Rabri you Laloo Lal, hehe), a little like kheer, and what not. The malai (what do you call it otherwise) had stuck to the walls of the pan with a thickness of almost a few millimeters, and ummmm… scraping it out with the steel spoon, the almond bits embedded in it was just…. just… just….Heavenly !!! It was then that I knew how a pregnant Ambar must have felt in Salaam Namaste making those orgasmic mating calls while having that Ben n Jerry’s something something dark chocolate ice cream.


I licked my lips like a greedy cat, and man, finally after 4am, it was the “sweetest” sleep I had. All puns intended.

Chalo, ab bahut kuch meetha ho gaya.

A "Dream" To Share

Right now, this is how I feel.



 
The reason? Returning home one day, I was overexcited to see an old poetry contest flyer in the bus. The deal was pretty straightforward. You wrote a 50-word poem on “Dreams” and submitted it online. If you were amongst the top 55 to be selected, your poem would be printed on the buses here. Every commuter could read it, appreciate it. What more, there was a monetary reward involved too.




Browsing through the writings of the winners the last few years, it seemed like a pretty straightforward thing to do. I would often travel in buses reading the last years’ poems and would dream of seeing my name everywhere till I would be on the verge of missing my bus stop.

Look look look…

And then, I finally grinned. I finally knew what I would do now. So what if I did not win the contest? I could still share the poem with my family. Not my family back in my native, but my blog family here. For I had a huge blog family after all, where there were so many people I would hang around with, so many people who spent their time reading my silly blogs and kudo-ing me (what’s wrong with my vocabulary today?), so many people whose blogs I read. This is second family for me, for I needn’t write my success stories to get appreciation. People in my blog family loved me the way I am, though many of them haven’t even met me. They read me first thing they reached office. They read me finally turning of the oven in the kitchen or putting their young bittus and pappus to sleep. They read my blogs and shared my thoughts with their friends, family, wives, moms, and colleagues. They left their valuable comments and opinions on my blogs, not just agreeing with me all the time, but contradicting me as well. They perked me up when I was sad, and congratulated me on every success of mine. They wished my family members happy birth day and the ones who knew me would call me up to ask what was I gonna write about next (as if it is some literary work I publish every day). I maintain a pretty anonymous profile and told them that I was someone. I have always, always, always received the warmest of reception. And this is what I call unconditional love and support. What if I won the contest? Copyright issues wouldn’t let me post my silly poem in the blog and only people in the buses could read it, people who had no clue who I was or where my blog was. Now, I was no longer obliged not to post my poem elsewhere. Now, everyone from the blog family could read it.


Yaaayyy!!!! And just to let you know that all you members of my blog family mean a lot to me. barring the Malicious Anonymous Commentators of course.

So this is how I feel right now.



And here goes the poem.


A DREAM
In dreams of peace and joy and love
My wings stretched out, I was a dove
On sunkissed morns and niveous nights
My verdant hopes sustained my flights.
A smile to heal, a touch to cure
Was there a dream on earth more pure?

Pee-Pal Bonding

Being a man, there are so many traits in women that I fail to understand. One of these is the socializing that goes in any restroom amongst Indian women. There are so many dynamics and complexities involved in a process as simple and as fundamental as peeing. A restroom in a multiplex in India, has swarms of women hanging out there. Sorry to disappoint you curious men who are reading frantically to know what exactly happens in a ladies restroom. I ain’t telling you that. But if you know what I mean, I don’t see why for something as quick and as uncomplicated as peeing, women have to drag the entire group of friends into cramped restrooms.


My friend and I used to hang out a lot. Invariably after a movie she would have to go seek a restroom and drag me there. In college, when you suddenly saw the entire group of girls leaving the class laughing and talking in a hushed hushed way, much to the curiosity of the other guys and to the consternation of me, you should know that the group leader needs to empty her bladder. I wonder if the entire group follows her to cheer the group. It’s like paying a visit to someone’s home, where you accompany a leader when she needs to pee, and I’ll accompany you when you need to pee. On a funny as well as a scary note, I wonder if women holding pompoms cheer the peer (all puns intended) with a “yo-yo-yo-pee-pee-pee-we-are-here-to-accompany-thee” song. My friend told me that even if she had nothing to do in the restroom, she could hang around (hang around in a restroom?), look at herself in the mirror and wait till she is done. What more, she feels I am an imbecile who cannot get the pee-reflex myself at the beck and call of her reflexes.


I’d stay back, I don’t wanna pee now- is what I made the mistake of telling her once, to which she rolled her eyes and told me that I could hold her paraphernalia, refresh my make up, and converse with her over the cubicle.

I fail to understand the restroom dynamics, and why women feel so comfortable dragging their friends and relatives and sisters and mothers to the restroom. Perhaps one reason could be the safety factor involved, just to make sure that you aren’t locked up in the restroom with no one to find you, stranded unable to undo the tight knot in the churidar rope, or not confronted by some pervert rapist lurking in the dark alleys who attacked innocent young girls wanting to empty their bladders. But this factor aside, I fail to understand why every time women go to a restroom, I would be lost in a carnival going inside, with slim fashionable women refreshing their lipsticks and looking bitchily at other women through the mirror, voluptuous aunties with ill-fitting churidars holding the hands of the cranky, troublemaking little monsters while they noisily chatted with their bhabis and nanads (sister-in-laws). If this is a way of female bonding, I wonder if there aren’t other ways of bonding. I mean I have seen men who take sutta breaks (breaks to go out for a fag) and perhaps discuss everything from the status of the stock markets to the vital stats of their girlfriends (note: I have a feeling that when girlfriends become wives, men discuss the vital stats of other women, but then, correct me if I am wrong). But at least in a fag break, you are not obliged to hear the gurgling sounds of water (never mind the other associated noises) while you embarrassedly stand amongst a group of women animatedly conversing. And I would do anything to know if similar animated conversations and bonding sessions prevail in the men’s restrooms too. I do not know if this is a shortcoming of mine, but I could never pee in peace if there is a crowd standing outside, and that too, a crowd of known people of all things. Years back, I had read to my utter disgust in this book that the husband used to get aroused looking at his wife pee. Frankly, a husband like this would make sure he never ever entered the restroom again.


Perhaps there are certain dynamics in bonding, certain brewing chemistry that I am missing out on, something the specialists of sociology, psychology, and women studies can throw light on. Interestingly, I have never seen such gregarious behavior amongst the girls here (unless they are the desi girls once again). Girls here mean business, and no hi-hi-ha-ha or post-pee socializing while soaping hands. Anyway, enough about this, for I am already beginning to feel uncomfortable as my kidneys are reprimanding me. But if you are reading this and if you know me personally please stop asking me to accompany you every time you need to go to the restroom. I need no loo-cializing anymore.

Ctrl-C Ctrl-V

What do I do when I'm tired? I blog. And what do I do when I'm tired of writing? I make pictures.


Ever since I discovered the amazing things in life like Picassa and MS paint, I have gone crazy discovering the numerous possibilities and probabilities of creating pics with two simple keys- Ctrl C and Ctrl V. What more, on public demand, I & my wife have been making collages of marriages, anniversaries, years of togetherness and the other important events in life. I wish I could show you something more than the unanimated stuff here, especially after the wedding collage I created of a friend, I went gaga praising myself of capturing all the important events and emotions like the vermillion ceremony, the shyness in the eyes of the blushing bride, the red bindi and the red saree, and the agni (fire). Anyway, enough praises for the self, I’ll leave you guys alone to browse through some of the stuffs I made recently, and get back to my copy-paste mode. For more, you can look below.

And yeah, feel free to give me more ideas on what to cut and paste. It better be with a theme. Like right now I am working on putting together the best places of Pondicherry.


Someone rightly said, a picture is worth a thousand words. And I proudly say, a collage is worth a hundred pics.

Flowers of Spring (personally photographed/pp)-




Flowers of Spring (pp)-




Space needle (pp)



 
More flowers (pp)


Tulip festival



A collage made from collage (pp)




Rose plant (pp)




The Puppet shop



This food, that food (amen !!!) (pp)



So which one is your fav?