Hunky Dory

I've played in every position. Kept goals, scored goals, prevented people from scoring goals, helped people score goals. It's probably the only thing I do well. My favorite team is Barcelona and sometimes I wish I was born in Brazil. They say angels send their wanton daughters to Brazil for vacations.
Haven't played the game for quite soemtime though. Haven't done many things I earlier enjoyed for quite some time actually. Did onething today though. Pigged out on channa/boot during lunch like I used to when ma used to cook it during my school days. Feeling better these days for no apparant reason.
Went to Styx yesterday. Found out that I am probably growing old. The souls of the dead apparently like grunge metal. I swear Purple Haze is the place for people long in the tooth like I. I should have guessed the first time I saw VH1 playing a song I remember being released in their retropicks. Still enjoyed a lot at Styx despite the music. Would have headbanged had my head not been already spinning with the beer.

Just another day

Oh aaj mausam bada be-i-maan hai!
Aane waala koi toofan hai!
Just when you are planning to hang up your gloves for the day, up comes S asking you to complete that proposal we decided to shelve for a week yesterday. Deadlines like this are worse than that at B. And that was MBA, this is you know.. the actual thing. But S is somebody I admire for his own ability to create something out of nothing. And the guy has vision. Yeah its possible for people to be foresighted.
Who I can't stand is the PL idiot. This org structure is not proper. I should not be made to report to idiots who can't track a fucking schedule. Assclown, if I was so interested in tracking and maintaining excel sheets you would have by now found yourself out of a job.
So now while you guys enjoy the weather out there, if you would kindly excuse me, I have some documents to attend to.

Sporty weekend

The Australian team is all about habit. First they had this winning habit, then the habit of spitting crap about all and sundry, and now would you believe it.. the losing habit. Now I've started feeling that there is some justice in Michael Holding's 'In the long run it all balances out.'
Amidst the jokes on the Royal Bengal Tigers all migrating to the Indian side of the sunderbans (thus making Bangladeshi tigers a misnomer) and Bangladeshis migrating to India leaving Tapas Baisya the only living creature who migrated (conjecture) from Assam to Bangladesh in search of cricketing glory, and amidst a lengthy explanation of how probably three runs is the epitome of bad cricket all around, what my brother and I almost missed is that we saw history being made. Bangladesh deservingly beat Australia in a well competed match.
Another historic event, even though probably not of the same magnitude as the Bangladesh Australia result, was Japan, the current Asian champs defeating Greece, the current European champs in an embarassingly one sided match. This weekend was a bonanza of good football dampened only by the likes of Subhash Bhowmick and a bunch of hindi jokers aka commentators psuedo-analyzing the tactics of teams and commenting on the quality of the games. Having lost to Pakistan by three goals, the only football related activity Indians should be allowed to do is shutup and watch.
Montiero sharing the podium, the first time for Jordan I think, was another shocker. Poor Karthikeyan, coming in a close fourth just one lap behind Schumacher. It was probably the first time Jordan and Minardi were looking at their machines, or at least at their tyres and smiling.
Quality time I tell you, quality time.

That damned cell

That damned cell. He never had the need for it earlier. He liked his independence and his space. Somewhere things got complicated and he'd bought it so that he could talk to her regularly. He was so used to her in his life that the cell seemed a lifeline to bridge the sudden distance he could sense in their relation. Now it seemed a torture. It just lay there besides him tantalising, tormenting, insulting.
This was a new feeling. That insecurity. That feeling of loneliness. That helplessness. That damned overpowering cell. He just couldn't get his eyes away from it.
You're being stupid. She'll not come back. You're alone now. Theres no going back.
He tried reading. Couldn't. Tried sleeping. But the sofa in the hall was rumpled and it hurt his back. He adjusted himself. The hall opened up to a makeshift garden and the moonlight and the neon light lit it up quite well. It looked much better than in the day time. Everything looks better at night. Still he always dreaded the nights.
He got up from the sofa and lit a cigarette. Contemplated whether to take the cell with him. 'Fuck you! Get over it'. Outside the breeze felt good against his skin. Bangalore is paradise when you've stayed for close to three summer months in Chennai. And he'd lived in Bangalore for close to four years earlier. Yet Bangalore strangely seemed a new place to him this return. The cigarette hurt him. He wasn't used to smoking this much. He finished the stick anyway and then decided against lighting another.
When he came back into the hall, the lights of all the bedrooms were turned off. Despite the cigarette, this time sleep came easily.
He was awoken rudely by a ringing sound. It was the alarm ringing in that damned cell. He looked at his watch. He had slept for close to three hours. His friends were still sleeping. They would still be sleeping when he would leave for office. Atleast that way there would be no questions as to why he made such a ruckus over coming to Bangalore. In two days he would be moving to a place of his own. Maybe he would be able to sleep better there.

Am I dumb or am I dumber

I have a dual personality syndrome I guess, times when I am just plain stupid and then the other times when I am comfortably dumb. It's a no contest, I am the most stupid person in the world when I set my mind to it.
In my previous post I contested those who say that school is cruel on children. Today I concede on certain grounds. There were days when school makes you feel like burying your head under the sand.
One such day was when R exposed my stupidity in a way that even Bluebeard would consider cruel on an 8 year old. He was a couple of years older than me, R ie, not Bluebeard. His parents had enrolled him in school late or something. Or I was enrolled early. Anyway, what happened was that I'd forgotten my sketchpens for the afternoon drawing class. R told me that he'd give me his as he was taking a half day. I was probably too grateful, so grateful that I did not even question him when, during lunch when the children were out playing, he took out the sketchpens not from his bag but from D's bag and asked me to use them. I kinda knew that a trick was being played on me but my primitive mind could not comprehend the magnitude of it. Or probably my mind is just an illusion.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you can guess what happened. D was my seat neighbour and she screamed when she saw me using her sketchpens during the drawing class. My teacher caned me and I was left branded a thief.
I suck, don't I? Picture this. A couple of years pass by and you'd expect what my father used to say 'some sense' in me. An ample display of the futility of the expectation was when school decided to give us a surprise half day. It surprised me, no doubt, so much so that my brain went dead and I went off to fly kites with A, expecting to be back in school by 3 when my mom would come to pick up my dada and me. My mom doesn't work, or that day might as well have been a half day for the entire family. Technically that is.
The only excuse I have for my thickness is that my brain goes dead occasionally. And when it does that, it does so in two ways. Sometimes everything gets dizzy and I find it hard to stand. At other times I chose to be oblivious to things that are painfully obvious. I am still suffering, predominantly from the second type of brain damage. You could say you could be not stupid if you chose to be (or not to be). But the fact is wherever I get the option I would definitely be stupid. For me there is no choice.