Showing posts with label I need to get drunk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I need to get drunk. Show all posts

Thursday, May 22, 2008

O Woebegoneness

Apprarently it is standard practice (is that ce or se?) that something that looks like the real thing has to follow once you send teasers out. Why is that no one ever tells me all this stuff? Makes me wonder if I bunked the "standard practices in life at large" class in school to go off and catch some a-rated movie on the sly. Considering that I was one of those sad kids who never bunked a class in school *[nope, not to watch an a-rated movie, not even to watch a {insert your favourite letter here}-rated movie], this makes me wonder if I ever suffered from a brief case of MPD in my childhood. Be the case as it may, thanks to my most recent ex-roomie, I now stand with full knowledge of the teaser-related-standard-proceedures of life.

Now that I have finished my catchy, hook-the-reader-so-that-sHe-thinks-the-post-might-be-interesting kind of introduction, let move on. So, about this post. This is about, surprise, surprise, the little un-appreciated joys of life. Yeah. Right.

Anyway, ever tried returning to sqaure one? No, not finding yourself in it accidently as you go about your merry ways, but being half-pushed, half walking-in yourself into that 2/2 inch space, where your thoughts freeze and your brain, which was till now buzzing like the ladies compartment of a crowded Mumbai local train, suddenly goes into this weird like of white vaccum where the only perceptible sound is that of the dust covered fan turning? If you ever have, then you, my friend, will be nodding your head in sympathy for me, as I say that this is where I'm - in sqare one. For the sake of prudence on wire, I shall leave the glorious details for later.

Anyway [I know I started my last para with the exact same word, but indulge me for a bit here, will you?], when you're starved for some entertainment to feed that voraciously hungry mind, imagine how grateful you feel towards God for giving you politicians, and of course, 24/7 media channels.

Here's what has been sustanence, for the last few days:

The whole deal with judges holidaying in exhotic locales, with wife and kid to tow, all on tax-payers money, is suddenly the latest breaking news. So when CNN-IBN asked Union Law Minister H R Bhardwaj to give his valuable comment on this, the good Minister, who of course saw nothing wrong with the practice, says, [And I qouth CNN-IBN, who quoth the Minister]
"How can you deprive the wife? You are a woman. You should understand"

Can you beat that for an argurment? In front of such restounding display for sparkling logic, I feel humbled.

And Then...
The New Indian Express, Cochin, ran this "Worst Minsiter" contest to give some very valuable feedback to the champions in the Kerala State Assembly [and of course, to provide the tax evading junta to have a free go at the very same people whom they elected]. Not very surprisingly, the Education Minister, M.A.Baby won. But the real scoop came from elsewhere--from Mr. G. Sudhakaran, the Corporation Minister, who did not take it kindly that he came only third in the contest. So this venerable gentleman retorted, that when George Bush, with his inspired brilliance and might could not scare him, Goenka's paper with its measly bunch of "coolie writers" stands no chance. And since our minister is all of 5 years old, he's also added that the Consumerfed website [which is under his department] would publish a list of worst performing journalists in the state. Oh boy! I'll sure be holding my breath for THAT one!

And finally...

IPL seems to be turning into the mother of all gossip churners. The lastest is the accusations of racism, as two Kings XI cheerleeders were sent back for their skin colour. They were apparently told that the Indian public "do not like dark-skinned girls". Naturally, everyone is outraged. "Racist? Us??? We, the campions of equality, who invented tolerance, racist? How could you? Wasn't it our Gandhi who fought agaist apartheid in South Africa? Didn't our Shilpa Shetty forgive the bad bad people of Big Brother's House, who said nasty nasty thing to her? How can you ever call us racist? We can't even spell rasist!"

People, accept it. We are racist. Yes, we are. We SO are. Of course we are racist. We are castist, sexist too. Look at the number of serials that go on about the dark-skinned sister who can never get married, or the advertisment budgets of Fair and Lovely, and Fair and Handsome, or the matrimonial columns which still have people looking for "fair-skinned, convent educated, homley girls". So please, don't you tell me that we are not sexist, castist, or racist. I use Fair and Lovely too.



*I've decided that I do not really like the normal brackets, and shall be using square and curly henceforth. In case I forget that I don't like normal brackets, you my readers, yes, all 4 for you, are to remind me.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Just

I want to be a kid again
To pout my lips and wail
To be lifted up and consoled with reassuring promises of candy and a hug

I want to lie with my arms wide open on the grass
Feel the rain splattering on my face

I want to go jump and splash in a muddy poodle
And feel the water soak into my skin

I want to stare at the night time sky
And see the orion again

I want to stand by the shore
Waves crashing at my feet
And look for that seashell again

I want to talk the night away
And still have more to say

I want to bury my face
And feel safe again

I want to laugh at a sad joke
And cry for it again
Feel free and bound
And then free again

I want to sit by that sidewalk
And watch life passing by

I want my free fall
And I want my security blanket

I want to hold on to everything
And still not cling on to the past

I want to start each day
As though it is the first
And live each day
As though it is the last

I want to grab so much from life
That I feel I can't hold
I want to feel...

Lack of sleep and alcohol makes some people tired. In others, it induces illusions of untapped poetic potential.