Saturday night fever

is not a good thing. Especially not when you also have a runny nose and sweaty palms and a full working day to take care of. Have been feeling pretty darn sorry for myself all of today. And missing my Mommy also. It's funny how you end up missing Mommy most of all when you're sick. It's nice to be mollycoddled sometimes.

My hottest gal pal and I have decided that we've finally met a true-blue bitch... and while we don't exactly dislike her... it's exciting to finally have one of those types in our list of 'People I've Met'. (No, I haven't put that list together just yet, but it just might be time).

Being cryptic on this blog gets harder and harder every single day given that everyone seems to chatting with everyone else. It's a burden I tell you, especially for us folks who keep everyone in the loop about everything all of the time. See, I'm a quiet fellow... but even I need to do something to fill up those awkward silences. Life is tough sometimes. And complicated.

And I have a cold. And inside-inside fever. Please feel sorry for me.

Happy 201st post

Highlight No. 1 of the day: I have been called 'her smileyness'. I like it.

Highlight No. 2 of the day: The girlfriend of the guy who called me 'her smileyness' and my boyfriend bought dinner and I got to take home the doggy bag. Free food :D

Highlight No. 3: I'm being interviewed by Moo... about how I propose to tackle the troubles of the world.

No. 200 arrives

I've had a vacation. It lasted less than 24 hours but felt like 2 whole days and left me wishing I had another 24 hours so that I could enjoy a 4-day vacation for a change. I feel refreshed and exhausted all at the same time, and it's lovely.

It's raining beautifully as well.

The thought of office tomorrow is making me mentally tired, but after a well-spent 22 hours, I think I should temporarily surrender the right to complain. So even if I end up yawning a few extra yawns, I'm postponing my usual I-wish-I-didn't-have-to-work grumbles to the next post.

Btw... this post will be Happy No. 200. Congratulations, looks of awe, envy & admiration, and wolf whistles will be welcomed and appreciated.

Tyred

Another of those supremely tiring days. I wish I could have a few slices of a large Chick'n Supreme. Pizza Hut is it?

I need to go to a spa. A nice spa with chirping birds and much greenery and the sea nearby.

I also need to stop falling asleep with the light on and the book on my nose.

I wish there were monsoon vacations (and summer and winter and Puja vacations) for people who can't go back to school unless they have tonnes of money.

I'd like to buy a good pair of jeans. My existing ones look sad... one has no pocket anymore... just a hole and its been hanging like a coat from a hanger.

I wish there was chocolate in the fridge. I really need to start stocking up on snacky stuff. Starting tomorrow.

2 posts to 200th post

So Best Friend met Boyfriend, and everyone seems to have hit it off well. I re-met a dude who's a true-blue storyteller at heart. I be happy.

Everybody does seem to be getting married this year. I got another announcement from another friend. It's all kinda freaky now... the marriage card -- so many at the same time.

Am almost reaching my 200th post and this milestone has come superfast. I'm happy. Writing almost-daily has its plusses. Unlike in the case of Post No. 100, I've put no chaap on myself to write a kickass post. But I have the fight in me to get to Post No. 300 even quicker. Watch this space dearies.

Black & white and weddings

Black and white movies are really not my thing, but fairy tales are. And as far as fairy tales go, it's hard to beat a Cinderella story -- no matter which era it is set in, it touches a chord.

Audrey Hepburn was the Cinderella in this movie with Humphrey Bogart playing her Prince Charming. Personally, I think he makes a rather ugly Prince Charming. I preferred the guy playing his brother (who originally got the hots for Audrey -- the good ol' love triangle to bring in the twist).

Everybody around me seems to be on the brink of marriage these days. Chomu from school and Chandannagore from work are the latest victims. The first dude has had his parents and her parents set the date for the wedding but hasn't popped the question yet. The diamond ring is yet to be bought. The second dude has spoken to wifey-to-be over the phone over the last two days and seems very very giddy and blushy about it. It's kinda cute to see a guy go all red in the face talking about his wedding.

No wedding bells for me in the very near future, though there was this joke in office about my getting hitched that a certain much-liked intern and my boss fell for. It was all very funny till it seemed like one too many people know. But I did discover that the two ladies who sit beside me at work, love to overact when it comes to pulling the wool over other people's eyes (or spectacles). The fool-your-colleague questions I had to answer included:

• Is the boy's brother coming down from the States?
• How is the mom-in-law?
• When are you going jewellery shopping?
• Will you be buying gold? (If you don't like gold, go in for rodium-polished jewellery)

I don't have enough money or time to get married just now. And the whole shopping bonanza thing and crowds of unknown, smiling, judgemental faces gives me nausea. So I'll just go to other people's weddings and eat like a pink pig for the time being.

One reason

why I dislike having a job is because it forces me to ask other people for the use of time that is rightfully mine.

Stop signs don't exist

I have no time for people who wallow in pity. I have no sympathy for those who seek it. I don't want your sympathy, thank you very much, and don't expect me to return the unasked for favour.

There are some people who keep complaining. All the time. Every day of their lives. But the tried and tested martyr act is, at the end of the day, just that -- an act. Crocodile tears that drop off self-pity-filled eyes, seeking sympathy.

But sympathy is the most useless feeling in the world. Worthy of scorn almost. It doesn't encourage you to hope. It doesn't push you to get off your butt and find happiness. In the guise of a safety belt, it pushes you further into the danger zone, making you shed more of those false tears till the line between true and false blurs, and the false tears are mistaken for real ones.

It can always be worse. Always always. And it's never that bad. Ditches on the road can always be fixed. Or avoided.

There's no problem so big that it can't be run away from. (-- paraphrasing Richard Bach)

Keep moving. There's no such thing as a STOP sign.

Lost

Sometimes, on the way to your dreams, you get lost. Then all you have to do is find another dream.

Ally McBeal said that one. But the great thing about being lost is that you can find your way back again. There's always a wrong road and a right one. And even the wrong road could turn out to be the right one. You never know till it happens to you.

But this is not quite what I wanted to say when I started this post. I conveniently got lost in the words and now am trying to scrabble my way out of the woods. That's the thing. You needn't be lost forever. A good thing too.

There's this thing I'm trying to say, but it's just not happening. Maybe this is not the right day for saying what's on your mind. But it's started off well. Had enough sleep. Wrote a little this morning. Watched the last 40 minutes of a movie. And have some time left over to surf the net with an unsleepy-unworking mind and blog. And all this before heading to work. How have I managed all this? :D By waking up early. The body clock has been behaving itself over the last one week and working wonders for my state of mind and happiness.

I forget sometimes what I really want to do, and get entangled with routines and deadlines and rage at bosses doing no work. And then there's that "eureka!" moment, and I remember that all this is temporary -- the peasant-like existence, the office politics, the trapped feeling. This too shall pass just like the monsoon clouds outside threatening to burst the moment I get into the auto.

Life is hard and boring and supremely frustrating at times. But sometimes... I just can't help liking it.

Some days

are good days. Amnesia strikes. And the world just goes away.

Life sucks

Old but still kicking

I feel old and washed out and permanently stressed these days. The grey hair population is increasing by the minute (the silver strands actually sparkle after a shampoo) while the grey cells are getting worn out every hour of every day. I need a break from everything. I need a day when time would just stop.

STOP.

Nice word that. A pause during non-stop activity. Just press the button that looks like this:

II

And you have time to think things over, wonder, maybe just get a glass of water.

Life has suddenly become really hectic. My guitar lies unopened waiting for me to get some time to myself. And I don't mean free time to watch TV. Just time for me to be with me.

Me-time has become such a luxury. And it doesn't help that I have this huge list of things to do and feel guilty 'cause I don't end up doing most of them on any given day. I need a planner. I sure do.

I also need a computer chair. I read somewhere that 'backache is the new headache' -- and that sure seems to be the case. No matter what I do, my spine makes me feel like I belong to the paleolithic period.

I don't wish I could turn back time. Though I wouldn't mind being in a real-life Kate and Leopold thingy. But I just want a break. From everything and everyone. Almost everyone.

I'd like to see a rainbow. I'd seen one once upon a time, after a rough month while walking to the bus stop. For 15 minutes it was right there, the whole rainbow looking straight at me... end to end.

Sometimes you just know that there are angels watching over you. This was one of those sometimes.

There was another time when this star kept peeping at me through overcast skies while I stared back. This was during the height of the Mumbai monsoons, and the star kept twinkling till I felt all was right with the world again. Then it immediately pulled the disappearing act and hid behind the clouds. But my yellowish toothy smile had returned by then.

I'd like something like that one of these days. But I do feel better now -- how many people manage to walk towards a rainbow for 15 whole minutes?? And on the bright side, the internet is working today -- it had taken the day off last night.

My sister has been sitting in front of the TV and incessantly watching Disney Channel ever since she reached the US. My cats and dogs sleep, eat, take a walk, play with each other, eat, sleep, seek petting, eat, sleep all day through. My eldest cat Thomas in fact does away with most of the other activities and eats, sleeps, seeks petting, eats, sleeps all the time.

Being able to do nothing is a precious gift. If you have it, I envy and admire you. Plus, I don't know if any of that spare time will rub off... but do look at these poor lil puppy dog eyes.

Magic

It exists. In raindrops. In old diary pages. In deleted SMSes. In long-forsaken crow nests. In dreams that come alive in the most unexpected ways. In silly blogposts that aren't quite sure what they want to say.

Peter Pan isn't the only one spending time with fairies. And Santa Clauses roam the world with or without their red-nosed reindeer. Hippopotamuses may not wear pink tutus in forest reserves unlike the hip hippos in Fantasia, but who's to say they don't get jiggy with it once all the safari-loving folk have returned to their hotel rooms?

Magic lives on. Outside of Harry Potter and Mary Poppins and fairy tale witches, wizards and enchantresses, occupying unspoken words that find expression at the oddest interesections of time and place.

Cat tails

It's a cat that gets along with me. And not one of my own. With a dirty black nose and enormous potential for growth, here's a cat that is spoilt silly -- much like my Thomas, but younger, more sprightly.

I used to have a blog called 'Cat tails' for awhile till I deleted it. Cats and dogs may be the most favoured in the world of pets, but they ain't the only pet-worthy creatures around. Manu and I once had a pet caterpillar named Cappy. He wasn't the type that turned into a butterfly. He didn't live in a cap. He ate tomatoes for lunch and dinner, and had shades placed over his Chinese food plastic bowl home lined with leaves to protect him from the direct rays of the sun. There is something called "too much Vitamin D" if you happen to be a caterpillar, we assumed. He didn't live long though, our Cappy, and we still miss him, Manu and I.

I'm glad the black-nosed cat and I get along though. Yes, he's too lazy to jump. And yes, he seems to have all the ingredients to become a white-hot casanova someday -- one of those moon-faced cats that seem to only know how to make mating calls. And I can imagine him being one of those feline Hugh Hefner type people with Playboy kitties hanging all around him. Aah.. if you happen to be a house cat, could life be any better?

PS: I wrote a review of the new The Mummy movie while chatting online last night. And it turned out pretty long -- I wasn't exactly expecting that to happen. :P