And one viral replication cycle later...

It's been a year and a bit since the Stylus Virus first infected the blogosphere and wrought havoc on our neuronal cells. I fondly remember the first post; I had decided to let the blog take its own course, and determine its own development. It became more literary and less scientific than I had originally envisioned, and now I think I will rejuvenate scientifically with the kind of articles and commentaries I had hoped to have in the beginning - showing where the line between science and poetry blurs. For those who have enjoyed my poetry, I will probably post some/much of it on Disconnected Verses in the future.


Stylus Virus has a very modest readership at best, so to all that have stopped by: Thank you. I sincerely appreciate it, and hope you had a good read.

To avoid pandering to my vanities, I don't allow direct commenting. But I do feel its important and necessary to allow feedback. So, calling all "blurkers"! You have about a month to come up with witty retorts, snippets of sagacious wisdom and - hopefully - some constructive criticism too.

Feel free to comment on any and everything you wish to about this blog(courteously). If you have some concerns to air, or something thoughtful to say, here's the chance to say it. Or, if you like, just drop me a one-phrase comment :"I read/have read Stylus Virus". And may you have a productive viral infection.

[virii] about a death

When death comes, everything becomes irrelevant.
Be it a death in the family, your friend, your friend's family. Something you had stressed over so severely for days, suddenly dulls down into insignificance. Something that you complained about, that you harboured ill feelings about, shames you now with its pettiness. Then you realise the real reasons to hurt and grieve. The real burdens that weigh upon a soul.
When death comes - that's when you realise what's relevant.