But not for all of us. A few of us, traditionally the riskier bet, will be safe. And some of us will be completely screwed. And the rest, like me, will lie limply in limbo, waiting for something to happen. Or not.
But I feel slightly better knowing that atleast we are not being wiped off the map forever. However we will be a changed name, new colours, new heads. No more green. And answering the phone will never be the same again. My poetry partner would have disappeared altogether, and so will my lunch-mate.
So long, and thanks for the fish.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Seurat, nature just beat you
A sunlit canvas was generously spray painted with green, yellow and that faint hue of orange. The randomly planted long ugly twigs reached all the way to the sky, breaking the view into a few non-parallel parts. And in this backdrop, a maroon leaf fell noiselessly, ever so gently, onto the damp soil.
A jet-black snake, that curved too much and hence couldn't be poisonous but scared me nevertheless because i almost stepped on it. Several close-up shots later, I was glad my brave snake-charmer nature-lover dare-devil friend did not venture too close to try and open the snake's mouth, because we never know and i really like him and would hate to see him die. :)
And then the view from the top. Oh, to feel small and large and modest and powerful at the same time.
Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination
Silently the senses abandon their defences.
You alone can make my song take flight -
Help me make the music of the night...
A classic outing that should've taken 6 hours but instead took 14. Between moments of restlessness, I loved every minute of it.
A jet-black snake, that curved too much and hence couldn't be poisonous but scared me nevertheless because i almost stepped on it. Several close-up shots later, I was glad my brave snake-charmer nature-lover dare-devil friend did not venture too close to try and open the snake's mouth, because we never know and i really like him and would hate to see him die. :)
And then the view from the top. Oh, to feel small and large and modest and powerful at the same time.
Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination
Silently the senses abandon their defences.
You alone can make my song take flight -
Help me make the music of the night...
A classic outing that should've taken 6 hours but instead took 14. Between moments of restlessness, I loved every minute of it.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Stir
Down down down down
Fourteen thirteen then some more
Down down down down
Finally, until four...
Who knows what will transpire tomorrow. Maybe it will be Sunday, Hank's favorite working day. As of tonight, I am drunk. In a perverse way, I just want something to happen. Anything that will create some drama in our drab lives. But I miss my buddy and want her to stay as long as possible.
It is funny, the ways in which the macro-ecomonic environment can ruin your lunchtime.
Fourteen thirteen then some more
Down down down down
Finally, until four...
Who knows what will transpire tomorrow. Maybe it will be Sunday, Hank's favorite working day. As of tonight, I am drunk. In a perverse way, I just want something to happen. Anything that will create some drama in our drab lives. But I miss my buddy and want her to stay as long as possible.
It is funny, the ways in which the macro-ecomonic environment can ruin your lunchtime.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Thursday, September 4, 2008
More the Curiouser
Why did my Earl Grey Tea (with milk) taste distinctly like a banana this afternoon. And why does Jim Croce's 'Operator' remind me of winter? Why does 'Blowin' in the Wind', in any form, sung by any of the umpteen artists always give me gooseflesh in my head? Why were the boy's eyes yellow and why can't I ever forget him. Why can I not seem to maintain friendships with sunken-faced people.
Why does he look like a polar bear and she like a squirrel and I like a mango-faced grasshopper? What master of paradoxes made seaweed taste like crisp jelly.
What is it that we see through the looking glass?
Come, with me. Down the rabbit hole.
Why does he look like a polar bear and she like a squirrel and I like a mango-faced grasshopper? What master of paradoxes made seaweed taste like crisp jelly.
What is it that we see through the looking glass?
Come, with me. Down the rabbit hole.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
4 Days in London
One of the best romantic comedies I've ever seen :)
Our 'heart-breakingly beautiful city' hesitantly doled out good weather on two of the four days - couldn't ask for more and possibly get it. Morgan M was magical, but a little less so than the last September evening I spent there, a year ago. Too much fine-dining has spoilt us, surely.
In Cambridge we experienced cobbled streets on a Saturday, flamenco guitarists (one male one female), the yearning to go back to school, occasional dry coughs, a stereotypical vegetarian restaurant and a near break-up. (Alifespansmanydaysandadayspanssomanylives)
On a rainy Sunday we felt the early blues of having woken up too late. These disappeared during lunch with the successful brother. The real finds of the day were the little people in the treasure hunt and the free tomato-and-herb scones at Food for Thought. Yumm! Then the half G1 dinner at the place with too many puppets, a date, and a boy with the purple shirt who is wearing his happy face these days.
On Monday I got my way - we ate at Wagamama near the Eye- Number 72 and the tamarind chilli pavlova, though it wasn't the same without Titli. The day was beautiful! Diffused sunlight and music and the smell of old books filled the air. Soon it was time to go, and I left my favourite sweatshirt at the airport security check in all my sorrow and absent-mindedness.
As I sleepily made my way back home in the yellow taxi and the skyline appeared in the distance, I felt the familiar goosebumps greeting me: Welcome back home.
Our 'heart-breakingly beautiful city' hesitantly doled out good weather on two of the four days - couldn't ask for more and possibly get it. Morgan M was magical, but a little less so than the last September evening I spent there, a year ago. Too much fine-dining has spoilt us, surely.
In Cambridge we experienced cobbled streets on a Saturday, flamenco guitarists (one male one female), the yearning to go back to school, occasional dry coughs, a stereotypical vegetarian restaurant and a near break-up. (Alifespansmanydaysandadayspanssomanylives)
On a rainy Sunday we felt the early blues of having woken up too late. These disappeared during lunch with the successful brother. The real finds of the day were the little people in the treasure hunt and the free tomato-and-herb scones at Food for Thought. Yumm! Then the half G1 dinner at the place with too many puppets, a date, and a boy with the purple shirt who is wearing his happy face these days.
On Monday I got my way - we ate at Wagamama near the Eye- Number 72 and the tamarind chilli pavlova, though it wasn't the same without Titli. The day was beautiful! Diffused sunlight and music and the smell of old books filled the air. Soon it was time to go, and I left my favourite sweatshirt at the airport security check in all my sorrow and absent-mindedness.
As I sleepily made my way back home in the yellow taxi and the skyline appeared in the distance, I felt the familiar goosebumps greeting me: Welcome back home.
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