Rukavat ke liye khed

For all those who were waiting for my pre-announced post...a thousand apologies for my delay. The following is my bundle of excuses:

 

1. A painfully slow dial up connection

2. I was busy at work! Don't make that face, I really was! Honest!

3. I have decided upon a life of routine and regularity and had forgotten to give a time slot to blogging. (There you go, making that face again!)

4. I was plain lazy

 

Anyways, as things go, there seems to be a strange-mood wave doing the rounds in these here parts of the world. While one of us finds the meaning of corporate life in the serene sayings of Scott Adams' preachings, others find creative release in enacting the events of the day over gooey sapad*. Stories of the outside world are few and far in between.

 

As pointed out by A. once, we retell the same stories in our group, every weekend, and the audience too listens in with as much enthusiasm as as the first time (even pitching in with the exact doubts and comments they had the last time around). Though now I seem to have overdone it, I get a particular glare when I take my stories/anecdotes/jokes/trivia for a rerun.

 

End result, the cynic in me, brought up with heavy doses of Calvin and Hobbes and Dilbert has taken full control over my mind. More often than not you will find me going, "yeh to hona hi tha". Eg.

 

"Bad day today!"

"yeh to hona hi tha"

 

"Sapad's yuck today!"

"yeh to hona hi tha"

 

"Tu fir yeh repeat kar rahaa hai"

"yeh to hona hi tha"

 

"Aaj fir jaldi nahi nikal paye"

"yeh to hona hi tha"

 

"Yeh vending machine se soup nahi nikal rahaa hai"

"yeh to hona hi tha"

 

"kal chutti nahi hai"

"yeh to hona hi tha"

 

"Tax mein bahut kat gayaa"

"yeh to hona hi tha"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Your post wasn't worth waiting for.

 

Yeh to hona hi tha.

 

 

 

 

 

 *sapad: tamil for food; for us, canteen food, all other kind of food is just khana

Cure Me!

Does anybody recognize the symptoms? I am growing cynic-er and cynic-er with every passing day! Events which got me to this state will be detailed very soon in the next post.

Practice Makes Past Perfect

Stamping of naked feet on marbled floors,

The echo of lines from empty classroom doors,

 

Imagined sets and a ghost stage,

Markings on a battered page.,

 

Blinding lights and hidden eyes,

Revealed by laughs or by sighs,

 

Stench of anticipation and the taste of joy,

Slaps on the back and a few compliments coy,

 

To have lived all that, now life seems pale,

I would rather live in some one else's tale.

 

 

 

Hasn't he run out of sento yet, you say? [:D]

 

 

 

 

 

Move Over Ghalib! [:D]

Naacheez ka nazrana haazir hai,
zaroor batayiga kaisa laga:


Zindagi ko jab gaye gale lagaane,

Bachpan na jaane kyon rooth gayaa,

Ghum ne jab dono haath badhaye,

Hansi na jaane kahaan fisal gayi,

Yaaron ke saath khub jaam chalkaaye,

kabhi jhoome, kabhi gaaye,

lekin har baar,

khaali jeb,

khaali dil,

wapas aaye,

ab, dhuein ke andhere mein,

khud se lapata ho, baithe hain,

talaash hai us naseeb ki,

jo is waqt humein talaash rahi hai.