Don't know where it goes, But it's home to me and I walk alone
I walk this empty street, On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps and I'm the only one and I walk alone
I walk alone, I walk alone...
Hiya pretty people!
Am I sounding too morose in this new year? Yesterday I spoke about the world ending, and today I start off with this amazing but melancholy track by Green Day...
Fear not, ye mighty readers. I shall soon get back to my cheery, old self. It’s just the hangover of the Mabi trip and the necessity of coming back to work and routine that’s kinda pulling me down.
What wasn’t so bad was returning to my reading of the Mahabharata. But well, I’m not going to start off on that note now. Let’s keep that for next week. Right now, I’m in the mood for some Ghajini and a big bucket of caramel popcorn.
Hey, I noticed something very peculiar the other day when I was leaving at dawn for Mabi. I was watching the road and a few passer-bys (passers-by? passer-bys? certainly not bypassers!) I saw a man crossing the road – as he walked across, climbed the divider, got down and walked to the other end – all a definite, smooth way. And then a girl, covered in her scarf and woolens, conducted the same process. Same? Uh huh.
She crossed the first half of the road looking left and right in a duck-like fashion. On reaching the divider, she did a hop and skip and jerked her body up the stone partition. The getting down was an equivalent jig. And she ambled on to the other side.
Some things need to be observed once to be continuously spotted and perceived. For example, I happened to witness a few woman hanging down their leg when they sit facing one-side on a bike. After that, wherever I looked, I saw the ladies following the same action. Similarly, I discerned that this divider-dance-walk was a universal phenomenon. Me included.
Another lesson – the world can do without its scientists and software engineers (as demonstrated by the recent global meltdown and downsizing endeavors). However, life would be unimaginable if rag-pickers went on strike even for a day. Envisage having to wake up everyday to go out on the street and empty garbage cans, pick up all kinds of filthy rubbish and dispose it off. Ughhh... We screw our noses at the hint of the odor, and these individuals wade through it as they create a clean and hygienic city for us to live and breathe in. Thanks to you all, though I know you’re not reading this, friends. Thanks so much...
Right now (for the last couple of months actually), my mum’s grappling with maid trouble. Just like in the US and Europe, looks like Indians too will have to start doing their own chores soon. Our ever-cheerful Nagu bunks work 3 days out of 7, and mum’s routine now consists of washing clothes and utensils among other activities. Poor her. (Not that we don’t try to talk her out of it, but she can’t stand dirt and she’s extremely stubborn. Like daughter, like mother.)
Well, have a good weekend. Will be back with actual content next week. Recuperating from the lazy vacation, you see...
Here are some pictures for you to feast your eyes!! ;-)