The title may say “Clear thoughts of a Confused Head”. But, it’s in my nature to be confused.
Read random rants, written on stuff that I couldn’t decide which category they actually belong to!
WordPress has been a great platform for me. Although it’s a blogging platform first, the fabulous WordPress Community acts as a social network. It’s a good parallel to the social networks like Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.
The role of the society in people’s personal lives is too intrusive, personal spaces are not respected and them young ‘uns are just expected to fall in line per the elders’ wishes.
And then I saw the girl with the dog walked past our house. That’s all she does in her life, I guess. May be she works somewhere, but whenever I see her she’s walking her dog in the neighborhood. She lives just up my street and has a granny who’s acquainted with Mum.
However, there is this guy called Dangling Pointer, a scary bastard who continues to exist even though he isn’t aware where he came from. Bastard, truly! He is stuck between life and death, he will never be killed for real unless someone pulls the plug, literally. Hand of God, eh?
B-ve is quite rare, only 1 in 67 or about 1.5% of the world’s population are part of this group. I decided never to say no to any case that demands my blood.
It’s funny that this rant of mine is actually playing out in my head as if the words are being spoken out loud by the very characters. That obviously means I’ve been watching way too much of the show, not that I can do much about it. I’m at the fag end of Season 9 and there are, like what, 32 more episodes to watch before I go insane and shoot myself?
So, I lost about 2k on the bicycle, about 5 days of vacation, INR 7000 for removing my teeth. I gained nothing out of any of this.
So when you accidentally hear these two parties discussing something about you, you tend to pay a little attention.
A milestone has been reached. 100 blog posts!
“You heard about Abhishek?” A friend asked me on phone. “He died, in an accident. His new wife, his brother-in-law …
I pulled out an old walking stick lying in the cupboard and tried helping him (the squirrel) gain his freedom. I was the young man with the stick, he was the oppressed, decked in grey, white and black, panicking, squeaking, protesting my foreign presence yet getting tangled more and more in the mesh of twigs.
Could I’ve managed it better? No. There’s no way out of this routine. Not until parents come back. Not until someone can cook your breakfast and dinner.
I could’ve been many things, but I didn’t become those. Not because I didn’t want to become any of those, but because I wanted to become all of those. And sticking to that line of thought, trying to be everything, I never paid enough attention to any single time.
When we talk about partners, two obvious meanings are derived – one that means a life partner, can be a spouse, a live-in partner, a lover and the other that’s in the context of businesses.
And then, we have partner-in-crime. That’s the partner less talked about.
Beyond fibromyalgia symptoms, short-stories and email writing, another thing did keep me busy and ate into my blogging hours in the last 10 days. A movie called Lamhe. I’ve been so hooked to it that I have watched it 3 times in 5 days.
Dormancy in life’s like a physical object mentioned by Newton. You’re permanently dormant in life unless you commit yourself to change that state, which kind of makes it not permanent. Contradicting, really.
That’s the irony of middle-class. They know to save and they know to enjoy life. They know to find large-sized happiness in smaller things of life. A box of crackers, a box of top-quality sweets, the best of the small cars, a stylish scooter that gives the best mileage, a 40-inch LED TV that we hope will last two decades and so on.
I guess the magic lies in the fact that freshers’ experience of the corporate world is from the outside – they don’t deal with ratings, promotions etc. They don’t stay with us long enough to see the ugly side.
And now they are after tobacco smoking. Gabbar Singh first stopped giving water in a tumbler to Thakur, and now doesn’t want to give tissue paper either.
As it showers, keep that book aside, run to your terrace and drench yourself, get soaked in whatever you’re wearing, but make sure you’re wearing something. Stretch your arms out, lift your head upwards, feel those droplets on your face and body.
