I miss

I miss Class XI. I miss that year. If there was any year I could go back to and live all over again, it would be the school year 2000-01. If there is any year that I look back on and remember tonnes of fun, and immense peace of mind, lots of little successes and a dozen great friends, its the year I was in Class XI.

Sometimes I wish I could go back there - where the only stress was exams (and hell, in retrospect, I liked giving them). And I wonder if life can ever be like that again. I don't know if it can. But it's nice to imagine.

Neverland, Wonderland - do we ever really grow out of those places? Will fairy tales ever cease to matter? Will Santa Claus ever feel like just another marketing gimmick. I hope not.

Class XI was one of those years when everything turned out just fine in the end. 2009 just doesn't have the same touch to it. Hopefully, 2010 will be a whole new story.

Another 'Dhurrrr'

I'm feeling rather pointless. This is a continuation of the earlier post. Another of those 'What am I doing?' whines. I like my job on the good days. I can whiz through with nervous energy on the bad ones. But the neither-here-neither-there days just get my goat. And the new work timings aren't helping either.

"Sure," you say, "Blame it on the timings again."

Dhurrr

Most times, we get so comfortable in this horribly blah existence. Hutt. And then you suddenly wake up from that drowsy, dull existence and wonder, "What am I doing?"

Spare me the big words

Big words, long words, convoluted sentences designed to impress -- aargh! They make me so mad!

Who are you writing for? Academics!? Even the best of those folks write simply. Monosyllables speak so much better than those long-winded polywollysyllables. Aantlami? Nonsense and bluster is all it is. The real aantels write stuff that even class 2 girls in fountain-y ponytails can read. And then you can't call them aantels anymore, can you now?