The Quintessential Zilch of Life

Bruno’s Eulogy

2011-11-07T21:22:00.000-08:00

Was he the best dog in the world, or the worst?

I guess that is something that will always be up for debate…between my parents, my sister and I, and our numerous friends and relatives, who were scratched, bitten and mauled by him.

I guess I am getting a little ahead of myself here.Let me start at the beginning.

He was scared for exactly the amount of time it took to get him home. After which, he went about peeing all over the place and marking his territory.

He did miss him mom that night. But that was the last time we ever heard him whine or cry.

We were told it will take a little while for him to get used to us and show his true nature. If by “little while” they meant exactly 8 hours, they were right on the money. The very next morning, he began laying down the law.

You pet me, when I tell you to pet me.
You don’t call me, I call you.
You give your food when I tell you to give me your food. (I don’t think he has ever begged in his life.)

All of us gave our best shot at training him. An unsuspecting trainer was also hired. But he had already decided, “I am potty trained and that’s about all you’re going to get.”

Then I read somewhere about positive reinforcement. I started by giving him a treat every time I called him and he deigned to come to me. That whole theory blew up in my face, when he stopped coming to me until he saw food in my hand.

I remember my sister trying to play catch with him and almost getting mauled in the process. See, he thought she was trying to take the ball away from him. That day, we all learnt an important lesson – Everything in the house first belongs to him and him only.

Then there was the time he hit my dad with his paw because he moved away from him in his sleep. In his defense, it was Diwali and he only ever felt safe with my dad.

And once, my dad caught him using a street dog to smuggle meat for him. Bruno is probably one of the very few vegetarian dogs in the world. While we were proud of that fact, he obviously wasn’t. (Don’t worry, he was very healthy and buff. My friends refused to come home because they were scared they’ll get mauled by the ‘lion’.)

Reading all this, I guess you would be leaning toward the bad/worst dog side. My aunt used to say,” He is badly behaved because you never treat him like a pet.”

But the thing is, he decided how he wanted to be treated. He didn’t think of himself different from my sister or me, except maybe that he was above us in the family hierarchy.

I guess he was like my older brother – Arrogant, Annoying and Sweet.

What I didn’t tell you before was, he used to come to me only when he chose to but that somehow coincided perfectly with the times that I needed him. How he knew this, I will never know. But there has never been a time he wasn’t there to console me, either by telling me to pet him or ordering me to give him my food or just by sitting beside me. And I knew things would be fine…

…Except now.

Bruno was born 24th October, 2000, came to us, 23rd December, 2000. He left us on the night of 4th November, 2011.

May his soul remain arrogant as ever in his next life.

Of things that get lost somewhere along the way

2010-05-05T07:45:00.000-07:00

I remember when I was 7 years old, I beat up Dilip because he wouldn’t let me play with his G.I. Joe. When my mother was trying to drag me off his battered form, I vowed that I would get a bigger, better toy. Needless to say there was no toy, forget bigger or better, in the near future ‘until I repent’: my dad’s edict. Crying and pleading didn’t really work when I was sporting bruised knuckles (Damn that kid’s tough skin!) So, I sulked for quite a while. Then my dad, who was thankfully a li'l absentminded, got me that big plastic gun which makes those weird noises, from Japan. The next day I sneaked it out the house in the sack of my schoolbag and flaunted it like a terrorist in Afghanistan. Then of course the usual happened. My teacher took it away because I was disturbing her precious class. My parents got called. The word expulsion was bandied about. My dad of course tried to talk sense into me. But I had my own special dictionary which I relied on. **Fade out**

**Fade in** Next, I got caught stealing a money from home to which my dad threatened to plonk me in the slammer. **Fade out**

**Fade in** The following episode was one where I hit a boy with three scales because he was annoying me. **Fade out**

**Fade in**Then got caught for copying a test. **Fade out**

I wonder now, what happened to that li’l girl. So full of energy and life… I miss her.

Of the Outdoors

2010-01-04T21:04:00.000-08:00

Since my last slightly morbid post I have tried to put my life in perspective and, pepper over it some positivity (don’t know if it’s a word, but it seems the best fit). But being an inherently negative person, the positivity is quite minimal. Ergo my grand plans of appreciating the color of the sky, the quirkiness of human-nature, the sound of flying birds and blah… blah… blah… didn’t last longer than a few hours. But as long as it did last, it ended up giving me quite a roaring migraine. And as usual this unique incident led to the reminiscing of the minimal other experiences in my life which of course sprouted forth a few more questions and theories.

1. It’s commonly said and believed, the minute you want to take a photograph of a particularly beautiful moment, and you have already stopped appreciating it. But we always carry our cameras whenever we go on a trip or to a special occasion. Does that mean we don’t want to experience/ appreciate beauty?
2. If it is for the sake of nostalgia, why take a picture of something you’ve already stopped appreciating?
3. Why would a person ridiculously scared of / disgusted by insects (which most of us are) go on a camping trip? I mean you obviously don’t want them in your domain, why go out in theirs’ and then scream bloody murder?
4. Why is it that people are uncommonly excited about getting wet in the rain? I mean how different is it from a shower? If we still end up comparing the two, isn’t a shower better? The water in the shower is not a mildly corrosive acid. You get to frolic without you clothes on. And finally, people don’t gawk at you like you are stupid. It looks to be a no brainer!!!

All these points said, my final conjecture is that I have become too citified for my own liking. So I have decided to pack up my lotions and heavy socks and long pants and go on a nature trip. The primary purpose of course being - the ‘appreciation of nature’ and the secondary being – proving my above theories. I am naturally taking my camera with me… because knowing me, I might just need it.

Of Cows and pastures

2009-10-13T01:59:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I last wrote. Much has happened since then. I've started working... I have my own place... I do what I please, when I please. Nobody to question me... Nobody to stop me. I am living the life I always hoped I would get to live.

... or am I?

It is so true about the pasture being greener on the other side, though I don't particularly understand why whoever came up with this proverb chose this particular metaphor. I mean we are humans right? A much more mentally advanced species. Why compare us with COWS? Of all the slow witted, boring creatures. Don't get me wrong I like cows... the healthy amount that is. But they aren't the most intelligent or awe-inspiring of God's creations. Now that I think about it, a cow wouldn't really abandon available food just because it "feels" that the color of it looks better on the other side of a barbed fence. Why couldn’t he have chosen something like elephants? – Something like “The river is always muddier on the other bank” or lions – “The miniscule bit of flesh that you have let your hardworking wife have seems tastier after you have finished your hunk” (OK that’s a bit too long but you get the drift) I just can’t understand this weird obsession with cows. People sure are peculiar.
Moving on, my life which is supposed to be perfect seems too brown or less muddy or doesn’t taste good. I wonder why? I mean why is it that you are never happy with what you get. It’s ok in books n all when they say this makes you strive for more and keeps away complaisance. But honestly? It just makes me wonder about the point of struggling to achieve anything, when I already know, once I get it I am not gonna like it anymore.

Of a new God

2009-03-08T15:01:00.000-07:00

As opposed to my earlier opinion, I had come to the conclusion that inactivity doesn't help creativity. Hence the extended period of the soothing shut eye, the pleasurable sin of gluttony and being a couch spud has just led to a serious condition of brain-deadness. Whoever said ' without action there is no juice' clearly knew what she was talking about! But while my back was in the process of fusing with the couch upholstery and my eyes glued to the tube, my mind did tend to wander.
These are some of the earth shattering revelations I came up with through no conscious effort of my own:

- Why does a dog love to stick his head out a moving car window but tries to maul you when you blow in his face?
Maybe because he can't talk and is very emphatically trying to tell you that you have breath issues and to not come near him unless you brush.

- Now you might wonder how can he act so pious when his breath stinks like nothing ever could?
Well he never does actually blow on your face does he?(Now the wet kiss that you get is an occupational hazard of being a dog's best friend and is clearly stated in the manual)

- Why is it that when you are chasing a lizard out the house that they run toward you?
Sieving through my many theories...1) Maybe because they want to go in the direction right opposite to the exit (reptiles could be stupid that way) 2) Or maybe they are trying to perfect a new psychological ambush program called ' Spook the wuss'. Their previous program 'Leave the tail behind' was definitely a roaring success.

Now you might be wondering what my brilliant theories have to do with the post title. Well i guess that is my most awesome revelation of all. The porcelain god seems to have become obsolete! I am doing better in my current position on the couch and staring a hole through the TV. So meet the new, improved and more comfortable Spud God!
Try it and let me know how it works out.

Of The Institution

2008-11-09T06:14:00.000-08:00

I have been living in a rut for the past month or so. What with work having been put to stop by my omnipotent dad and the even more omnipotent college. I keep beating myself up, wondering what kind of insanity made me nod my head meekly to my dad's deriding “I’m not going to sit back and watch you pour my hard earned savings down the drain. Hah! Working and studying indeed. Why don't you try studying for once and we'll talk about working." So here I am going to college everyday and on the way I remember my boss's insightful words " Why don't you stop whining for once and just get your six months of college over with! " and I thought to myself she is right. I am never going to get to enjoy the little things in life once I start full time work. Like sleeping for as long as I want. Having absolutely nothing to do. I thought I can recharge, I can be creative with all the time that I have. Turns out I am not that creative or what creativity I had left in me, got lost in the hangover like feeling you get when you sleep for so long it's like someone took a sledgehammer to your head once you wake up. But I thought 'I will make the effort, even if others have to suffer for it!'
So here I am trying... trying really hard...to think of something I can write that at least makes sense to me.
What I come upon is... College!

Having studied in two different colleges in my life time, one after the other of course with one still going on. I'd like to think I am quite an expert on this subject.

Being from a middle class south Indian family, there were a million rules that had to be followed. It was quite an experience. Having joined a fashion institute instead of the ubiquitous engineering college, I was termed the rebel. I can still remember my mother's crestfallen face which made obvious to anyone willing to look at her face at that time and those disgusted looks which were saved specially for me and dad. But my dad on some courage spurt actually looked her in the eye and said, “You know we have no control over her. Let's give in gracefully and hope to god she doesn't turn into a hippy." But in all fairness to my dad he had done his research well and having satisfied himself that 'it's a good field to work in' he agreed to relieve his purse of that fat lump of cash. Also, the number of contingency scenarios he had planned for me was mind boggling! There was the reassuring " It's a B.Tech, so this is also like engineering" comment followed by everyone's covert are-you-kidding-me looks or the " She is going to be learning about production, so if nothing works out I could always get her to work in my factory" comment followed by My not so covert are-you-kidding -me look or the " She can always open a boutique in the house" comment followed by both mine and my mother's horrified stares. Enough-said, my so called journey on paths never ventured on before was fast turning into 'The Organized-Ville Horror'.

But all that changed when I walked into a stiflingly hot room bursting at the seams with teenagers of all shapes, colors and sizes, wearing the weirdest of ensembles and my dad gave me that grand opening of his 'one minuter', One minute he is standing next me mumbling something about ' Having seen everything in life' and the next minute he is jumping into his already moving car and begging the chauffer to drive faster. So much for overbearing parents!

And thus began the most eventful and fun four years of my life. And I wouldn't change a thing, be it the long push-shove-quibble train journeys followed by deliberately missing the overcrowded buses and then hurling abuses at the auto drivers and then hoping to God he doesn't retaliate or the lectures which always used to start ten minutes before we reached college or the canteen food from which we used to avert our eyes when it was being served by Attendant number 1 who didn't believe in baths or Attendant number 2 who had long nails painted with fuchsia polish and said " All the better to scratch my sweaty armpits dear" or those long pointless talks on the canteen stairs or in the vestibule leading to the teachers' powder room which was cool and windy no matter how high the temperature or those long weekend and nights when everyone would be grappling with those final edges which did not match or the ten millionth ripped seam only to stop and laugh at some ridiculous joke or to dance and sing along to some equally ridiculous song. Though it was not all laughs all the time, even those stupid fights and tears just bring a smile now.

Sitting here in my risk management class, still balking at my dad’s diabolical genius for ripping me off into doing an MBA, I know it will never be like that here. And I have to wonder, will I ever have the same wonderful experiences again? Will I ever find that awesome place which I profess to hate but secretly can’t wait to get to?

And you know what I realize?

I AM OLD!

Of Perfection

2008-06-12T03:45:00.000-07:00

This is next word I love after "Quintessential" - Perfection. Every interview, every resume sent out has at least one mention of this word with an added ‘ist’. I love yapping about my eternal search for perfection and yadayadayada. But I have never really stopped to actually wonder about it. But yesterday I was looking this blog called The Sartorialist and though the post there was very relevant with fashion, it made perfect sense otherwise too.
What I 'gleaned' from the post was that -

Perfection is in-fact the end.

Once something is found to be perfect, though that rarely happens, there is nowhere to go forward from there. Kinda like when a player gives his best performance and then retires probably because he can’t go forward from there or because he is afraid he might not do as well in the encore.

So my point is, even though we might say that we want things to be perfect. Do we really want them to be so? Because according to me, what inspires most is not perfection itself but... near perfection.

PS
To refer, this is the URL for that great blog - http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/

Of Creativity

2008-05-30T02:19:00.000-07:00

This is something that i have always wondered about.
What IS creativity?
Is it some special genius that only the select few have?
Or is it a path not all choose to take, in-spite of the fact that all have access to it?
Or is it like those out of the ordinary clubs that only the elite can join? (which means it is totally over-rated!)

Of the much discussed about...

2008-05-21T01:35:00.000-07:00

Ok, I know i have already written extensively about this. But I cant help it, people just keep amazing me with their theories and ideas.

This is about the whole women's Lib thing. Having reached an age when other "more conventional" women would be sporting large bellies, the talk of marriage keeps popping up (thankfully not with my folks yet!). People getting married, just the thought and my throat closes up. I dont really know if i am sad and clogged with tears or it's a stroke. But that's the case. The whole concept of marriage still doesn't actually make sense to me. Why does one have to be legally bound to someone else if they have already decided they want to be together. I mean i get that u r already together and not planning to be with someone else and all that. But what it seems to me is that, this is a way of scaring those adulterous spouses with groping hands. And THAT idea is just stupid. If the person is not committed and has not respect for the partner, why would anyone want to spend a lifetime with him/her. If it's jus for the perks that institutions provide for married couples, i understand, but romance does not really figure here does it? Then comes the hassle of the divorce and alimony. The great geniuses of our time invented the prenup. But it still doesn't work for the adulterers and the murderers. So what is the point of this whole ball and chain concept? I am still waiting for the day, light shines on me and i say Eureka! or i do the psychedelic yawn or my throat explodes.

With this picture in mind let's move on, shall we? Women as a clan, have always believed in marriage. And with the passage of time, have added new clauses to the legal contract and have managed to find new unbelievably smart loopholes in it. Here's a trivia that jus proves how smart women are. Did you know that the prenup was used in the 1900's to transfer a woman's possessions to the husband after the wedding and now it is used to protect their wealth from their gold diggers of husbands. Albeit this holds true for a husband as well but if you look at it, it still works out better for the fairer.

But some offsprings of this fair, smart clan, play the exact part of dumb blondes that I can do nothing but stand open mouthed and That is quite a picture. What i guess has happened is that, there are so many new ideas floating around that they are confused. One: being that women are equal partners, two: women can be independent and don't Need men and three: the husband is the provider. These being the 3 main thought flows, ladies trying to be too smart, want to have the cake, eat it and also want more delivered to them regularly for free. I gotta say, That is ambitious. But sadly that remains just that, an ambition. How can any woman be independent, but depend on the spouse for material things and not get dominated by him( if it sounds arguable, know that this is an adaptation on my previous post on the same topic)? Plus, why would anyone want something like that? But surprisingly people do and i jus don't know wat to tell them.

Of the Big Bang and fossilised lice

2008-02-26T20:36:00.000-08:00

And now to begin with the long awaited answers for the unnecessary questions…. Why unnecessary?... Because the answers are not really going to change anything much.

I wanted to start with the tattoos, but last night I was just sittin’ around and I had this epiphany and I thought I should write it down before I lose it.

So with reference to the last question as to whether Dan Browns books might have even a tiny smidgen of truth in them?

I was thinking what his books essentially depict are various conspiracy theories… Attacking an assortment of authorities in the world, which a few years back no one would have dared do. And we as his loving audience drink up the spate, (truth or lies, one can never actually prove) enjoying every second of it. What he illustrates are slurs on the very foundations of what we believe.

Yet we enjoy it and want more. Can’t count the number of times I’ve heard people raving about those novels and whining for the next one. Is it just because they are such good reads or because a tiny part of us revels at the idea that this might actually be true (all the thinking about this in the third person)? But god forbid if someone actually says things like that to our face and meaning it about something we have actually been involved in, then it becomes offensive.

Doesn’t this mean that we have double standards. That we choose to believe only what we want to believe. And come to think of it, isn’t THAT what is the crux of all his books. Therefore, even though his stories, as many say are just mountains made out of molehills, the molehills themselves not based on concrete proofs, it seems pretty conclusive that the concept in essence is an unequivocal truth.

Of the essential Coffee place at every street corner

2007-11-05T00:09:00.000-08:00

Today's youngsters with so much going on in their supposedly pea-sized brain, need a conducive place to theorize. More like a lab. So where is this place that one could go to, to expound upon these thoughts which run a mile a second?
The Coffee Place Of course!
Why the coffee place?
1. One needs a place where so much time is spent that time and thoughts actually slow down. This is imperative for these fast moving thoughts to actually be caught.
2. To spend a lot of time at one venue it needs to be comfortable - comfy couches, beans bags and all so that one's bottom doesn't suffer much and the rest of one's body is so relaxed, that all of one's energy can actually be focussed on making the mind work.
3. Think of this, as one of the members is elaborating on building upon a theory and your eyelids are fighting a losing battle against gravity, what would a steaming hot cup of espresso do for you. After all, the next might be your turn and you wouldn't really appreciate pandering to a bunch of unconscious lumps.I know what you might be thinking, "the home" sounds like just as comfortable, a place. but would "the folks" appreciate hours of activity in the unseen dark recesses of the mind which of course is not visible or... believable (even though its true in this case) and even if some of us do not have to contend with that hassle, what about getting up off the comfortable warm dent made on ones seat, time and again for a cup of the revitalizer.

So, having successfully established the essence of the coffee place, lets take a moment to think of the mind blowing thoughts that owe their germination to such a place. like...
- The significance of the distance between the tip of a man's thumb and the forefinger.
-The importance of bringing back the stand up comedian you have to sit through before PinkFloyd comes in.
-The controversy about Donald duck's Pants.
- Not to forget those amazing jokes, the innate sarcasm of which holds up the very foundation of cynicism.

Of course, one will have to wonder about the existence and profitability of a coffee place which has a remarkably low turnover, an extensive menu and low prices. But it is for the essential good of the world.
And though these might not all lead up to be million dollar ideas, creativity at least, would be flying high.

Of Tattooing

2007-10-31T01:55:00.000-07:00

Oh My god I'm having a writer's block. This sucks! Can't seem to write anything that make sense... no, make that worth a read. But enuf! i said to myself. Unless I make a effort, i am never going to be able to do it. So here i go on my merry journey down writers' lane. But still convalescing, am starting off simple.

What do I write abt? I think to myself... and i KNOW... Tattoos!!!

In the short period since I graced the earth, I'd like to think that I've been places, not to many, but enough for me to make my point in this post.

The different places am talkin' abt is in terms of mentalities...

All of my teenage years i've lived in a place which i have found claustrophobic. Why? because people are so scared to express themselves, so afraid to JUS FOR ONCE say what they actually think (about themselves, no qualms on gossiping abt others) , what they feel, what they want to do? That's the adults, the kids either feel the same or have been made so hollow skulled that they dont even know that they can think except for studies or judging others, that is. There is fear that one might not fit in and become brunt of "wagging tongues".

There is this place, and then there is the other where people do, say, think what they want. Not that they don't have their inhibitions and hypocrisies, but its jus that they are a much more open minded lot. And it is in this lot that i saw an almost aggravated need to make themselves set out as different from the herd. But the million dollar question here is - Are they Trying too hard?

With these two thoughts in mind, let's look at the question for the month. Why are people with tattoos judged as they are?

To start with a bit of history... Those with Thaasophobia, which to you iilliterates is fear of boredom, can skip this. Anyway, Tattooing has been a practice since the 4th century BC. Their purposes have ranged from jus decorative to spiritual. This is where the picture of the tattoo covered tribals dancing naked around an open flame paints true. Also another use was in the military where soldiers were identified and kept count over with tattoos. Also in India people in villages, etc have been seen to sport green colored tattoos of their loved ones' or spouses' names.

Now I know what thought has crossed all our minds when we see such people. I mean when people, maybe related to us, distant or close, sport tattoos, then why are we forbidden or frowned upon for the same. The answer is simple, today the tattoos are such blatant graphic expressions that they don't actually compare with the miniscule, green, barely visible ones our great great grandparents used to sport.

I think one big reason that tattoos are so controversial is because of their permanency. Oh and of course the discomfort which has been misconstrued by some as pain. Of course, now there are corny variations to the same, called temporary tattoos, which most of the young generation has sported at one point of time or the other. Serous Tattoo enthusiasts, when asked, will tell you that getting a tattoo is a very emotional experience. The tattoo is a depiction of a belief or a thought which is very close to one's heart and therefore the permanency of it also become a statement.

So putting it all in the shell of a nut, one reason could be that, sporting a tattoo is construed as wearing ones heart on the sleeve, which in many orthodox societies has been frowned upon. And lets not forget the leather clad troublemakers, who made tattoos their trademark.

But the main reason for the awkward looks i think is because of a tiny bit of envy floating at the edge which manifests itself as disgust among the so called conservative. And among the so called broad minded, is the feeling of fear that they are not accepted in the society which they cover up by flouting it (society and its rules) more.

Of Women's Lib

2007-10-17T03:45:00.000-07:00

"...we can drive, we can vote, we can work... What more do these broads want?!!!" - Phoebe Buffay

I think feminists in this day and age are superfluous or rather obsolete. Dont get me wrong. I am not against women's equality or (being more pragmatic) superiority over men. I am jus saying if we are those things, why do we need someone else to fight for us.
Besides in a country where 54% of the WOMEN population believe wife beating to be ok... what more can be done.

There is this side and then there is the other side (i, ofcourse, being an important part of it). I hear and see women bristling at even the slightest implication of chauvinism. And then i hear musings - (sigh) "Whatever happened to chivalry?"(sigh sigh sigh)

Quoting a strange conversation with a friend who would like her identity as a flake to be kept under wraps.

"We were entering a pub. He not only walked ahead of me, but the SOB didnt even hold the door open for me and i broke my nose when the door slammed shut on my face. Then the insensitive cheapskate actually told me that i could give him my share of the bill the next time we meet. Is this how you treat a woman?!!!" (i could see steam comming off her ears by the way)

Now what makes me hide her identity is the fact that she is one hundered percent Miss I-dont-need-men- i- can-take-care-of-myself. She holds rites and rituals on women's lib day for cryin out loud!!!

And though i sympathize with her, i really do. And i tell her in my most soothing voice " If you can be alert enough to prickle at the slightest utterance of sexism, shouldn't really be that difficult putting your hand out and stopping the door before it whacks your face right? Or better yet, instead of preening you could for once actually see where you are going. Of course if it has something to do with your reflexes, you might need medical help."
Needless to say, i havent seen her sadly mutilated face or her unfortunately nasal voice in a while.

For those of you who covet chivalry( I, having learnt my lesson, am thankfully removed from this) albeit secretly, you cant have your cake and eat it too. Because lets face it -men Are Chauvinistic pigs! And those chivalrous gentlemen of the 1800's might be romantic when they pick up your hanky or help you get in the carriage or get you a glass of lukewarm punch at the slightest gesture, but what after that. Let me paint you a little picture...

"I forbid you to straddle the horse when you go riding!"

" I shan't allow you to cause a scandal by strolling alone in the park!"

"You may not speak to the lady in red simply because I say so!" duh, she's my mistress.

" You shan't speak to another gentleman until you have obtained my express permission!"

"You may not address me by my given name unless I give you leave!"

"Your marriage vows require you to obey me. Now KNEEL!!!"

And i ask you - Chivalry? Really?!!!

I'd rather work on my reflexes or nurse a bloody nose.

Eventually it all boils down to this. One can either be told what to do or one can tell oneself what to do.But one needs to take a stand. And drop the ' Quivering Missus Prickly Drangon' act. Because Belieeeeveee me, Its bloody old!

Of Indemnity

2007-09-19T23:29:00.000-07:00

What the hell is that debacle all about? Insurance....Every person, scrambling like a rat to get his hands on a policy. Of course, the money is definitely on the much too mercenary insurance firm that has its salesperson grappling with a million others to sell his company’s policy to the unsuspecting but greedy rats. If you would ask a “wise” senior, he would say, insurance equals security. But think about this, you have an accident, your car is ruined, you don’t actually have the money to get it repaired, but technically, you should be relaxed because you’ve been paying your insurance premium regularly, being the greedy rat that you are, you don’t mind small dues until you get your reward. But here is the catch, in India atleast; you don’t get your insurance money unless you show them an itemization. And I think, duh! If I had that kinda money would i really need to claim insurance, keeping aside the greedy rat issue i.e. So there I am, my car wrecked, having to pay for the colossal but obligatory repairs and I am thinking “What the hell am i doing commissioning repairs, i don’t have that kinda money” Of course it’s too late at the moment. So now i have to go begging for small mercies.

So here I am, with 0 dignity, after the begging for small mercies stint, or the interest rate on my loan is so high, that I have paid almost the same amount as interest. Of course, i am thinking. Am still better off right? Some money is better than no money at all right? But what i have forgotten to take into account is the never-ending investigation, unethical but supposedly unavoidable bribery and the endless hassles that by the time the dough actually gets to my hands, i am wondering,’ Was it worth the trouble?’

Was today really necessary?

2007-09-17T22:37:00.000-07:00

With that thought in mind let’s move forward shall we?

Analyzing the degree of necessity of “today”

So there u are sitting in the room, looking out the window, a lovely breeze is blowing, rustling the leaves, making nature dance to its tunes. While you sit inside listening to some moron droning on about the importance of business communication. You don’t even know if you are going to be a marketing manager or a rock climber for cryin’ out loud! Though that would be a sight, climbing halfway up a craggy cliff and your supervisor sends you a memo that u r too slow. (lol)

You think to urself “what the hell am i doing here?” so u sit in the back row, switch on ur laptop and try to pen ur thoughts. But as u move forward u realize u r a lousy writer, but compared to listening to the key objectives of writing a report you feel that writing crap is much better. And of course there is the thrill that any minute u might get caught for “playing” on u r laptop while a presentation is going on ( Ah, how u live ur life on the edge!) Of course words don’t come easily to you and you sit and think about the futility of the whole thing. You are stuck here (in class i.e.) nowhere to go, boredom and frustration pushing you to be a wannabe writer ( oh the humiliation!) when you could have just as well stayed at home read a book that actually interests you or watch a movie that makes you wonder and smile at the creativity of it or could have just as well gone and explored that rock climbing thing. For somebody who believes that life is too short to waste or the she will make her own destiny you sure seem to be sitting on ur butt doing nothing quite a bit.

Sitting like an unsipped glass of wine on the table, losing the flavour, going nowhere, your ego still seems to be at its highest telling u that u r ur own person, u will make ur own future, life is gonna be just as u want it to be. You have of course believed this so far without a second thought, but now u situp in ur uncomfortable lumpy chair to wonder at this....

Query

2007-09-07T00:06:00.000-07:00

Where exactly is this line that seperates desperate yearning for sweet revenge and total indifference whatsoever, especially at that time, when you are sure to get it?

Why are people with tattoos judged as they are?

Does "Love" exist?

Who exactly are "Friends"?

What is the garentee that all your hopes for the future will not be shattered?

Is there a "God"?
How does it matter if he is or is not there?

Do any of Dan Brown's books have even a tiny smidgen of truth in them?

P.S- In the time to come i will try to answer a few of this relatively pointless questions so please feel free to respond to these now so i might include them in my posts ( quoted of course!)