When I was young I used to listen to one song quite repeatedly. It wasn’t a classic but somehow one line kept ringing in my head, “it’s not me but my attitude is the real king” can be taken as a loose translation of the lyrics.
Last few weeks have been crazy on every account possible. Sometimes it felt there was a major conspiracy against my peace of mind, at other times it felt as if things could not have been better. Close friends have been tying the knot and I have been missing every single one of them. I was supposed to be in
Some good news kept coming, people made jobs, embarked in the process of having kids. Vindication and retribution kept coming hand in hand. G left but V arrived. Circle of life would go on. Nothing stops. Birthdays come and go. Sometimes you advance them, sometimes you ignore them.
Marathons are exciting. You make sure you just have enough energy for the final dash. However, the question is what if the marathon distance keeps on changing as you run. Would you want to test your mettle against a shifting horizon?
I was running and I was tired. Really tired. But then like a sudden relief, today was a holiday. Room mates ran off to family. Being the worthless son that I am, I called up Mom to say sorry that I was not coming home. I needed to plug in to the wall socket and recharge.
Today as I blog, mails are downloading in the background, I have a 2 BHK to myself, I have asked Swati to stay away, I am playing the latest Bengali Rock, I have cycled at 11:00 in the morning and after a long long time I am devoid of any human presence in my surroundings. It is bliss.
But if everything was so sweet life would not be exciting, would it? As I was parking my cycle, this kid asks me, “Uncle why do you use a helmet?” Leave aside the fact that the kid does not understand important safety instructions, he does not even recognize young men when he sees them.
His friends stared as I looked up and challenged all of them to “dodge the ball” and “dog and the bone”. So for an hour I sweated, heaved, pushed, ran but ultimately came out victorious. Now who’s the uncle!!! They actually are young enough to scramble from between my legs. But still, Uncle!!! What Crap.
It’s 3 in the afternoon. It’s time to shift the choice of songs to Tagore and look at the 196 odd mails that I am supposed to respond to. In the evening, I might also go and play “Hide and seek”. The only issue is that the hiding places are not designed for people with waist quite a few inches bigger than 30.