Monday, 27 December 2010

Weekend break

Tics. Finding our money strewn along the sea shore. A lost cellphone.

Not caring for anything but the tics.

I must holiday more often.

Tuesday, 14 December 2010


A lot many things are pushing me towards my poor, long forgotten blog once more. Year-end, a month without any ‘official’ writing assignments (finally!), a small sweet miracle on a BMTC bus, and not the least, a note from a friend of long ago, one of the first victims of my ranting writings, who said he actually reads my blog, and that I should write more often.
But what should I write about?
In true December spirit, I must think of the year gone by. Except that I look forward to kick 2010 out of door with a shove and a bruise and a bite – and all this angst, I fear, will kill my style.
I could tell you about the writing I am doing at work, but only last week, I figured out the difference between an ‘is’ and a ‘was’ in monetary terms: Rs 21,000. A night of reprint, and reputation saved. Don’t ask me more. I am still traumatized. Getting away with switched vasectomy and tubectomy references in a newspaper article was far easier – and cheaper.
I could update you on my old friends, but their heads and hearts are full of their spouses and babies, and they don’t talk or hear me anymore. In our last lunch together, they didn’t catch a word about my day out with Cherie Blair. In frustration, I told Conscience Keeper very loudly: “I don’t believe this. They are not hearing me at all.” They didn’t hear THAT either. And you know why I find this really, really strange? I said this when nobody was talking, and all was quiet on the table.
I could tell you about the new man in my life. He is young, flirtatious and gay. I have the most interesting conversations with him, and love kidnapping him home with the lure of bhel puri and chai. Okay, beer. I will write a poem on you someday, K.
I could tell you about my new home. It has a cool address, and a lovely sit-out – both of which give me the strength to forgive Reddy, the builder; Mahalakshmi, the maid; Mooshika, the rat and Surya, the Sun, for their sins against me.
Coming to think of it, I do have a lot of things to talk about. I just need to get started. I hope this post is ‘the’ start.