Musings.

The construction workers gape from about eighty feet down. They are awestruck. Half naked, they stare at the procession of people who visit my place. The distance is metaphoric too. Perhaps its as much the distance between the economic levels too.
They try to comprehend though. They are half clad because they cant afford. But the rich have no such reason. I sit there half clad too. Ever since I am in this God’s beautiful place, I haven’t worn a full pant many times. In fact the times I have worn, my employees stare at me like they have seen a ghost.
I am not a great believer in God. But somewhere I cant deny that I share his benevolence. He gifted me two things unique. He gave me an incredibly wonderful readership and then he gave me this wonderful city.
Every one who visits my place, compliment the fantastic view. Its breath taking. But recently some moron carelessly threw a lit stub into this beautiful dense forest causing a mini fire. It left the ground charred. The ugly mark on this beautiful forest seems like a question mark tossed by the mother nature at us , “ Are you really that evolved of species.?” We can only hang our head in shame.
I have suddenly become very busy. The Americans have a very special jargon which is not only very eloquent but very charming as well. I would like to borrow the colorful ‘ Busting my ass’ here. It perhaps conveys more than a thousand words. So readers may forgive me for the irregularity.
What is that drives the Americans to use their posterior in almost every third sentence. So you could move your ass if you are leaving or keep your ass off if you do not want to interfere. But I am going to park my ass here till I finish. No doubt about that.
It’s the love of some loyal readers that is persuasive. Thoughts come cascading but fall short of words. It is plain fatigue. Fever has quietly come as an unwelcome guest and now refusing to leave. It doesn’t help that it is almost one in the morning. The eyes are red.
Yesterday was a disturbing day. A German Shepherd had perhaps strayed from his home and was lost on the busy street. He was bewildered and blinded by the oncoming cars and lorries. The security guard and I tried hard to rescue him. But he was afraid and would suddenly run up the road. We gave up after a futile attempt of more than three quarters of an hour. I was praying all the time that he would be run by some drunken driver.
I am sure his anxious owners may have rescued him from his torment. Only a dog lover would understand the anxiety. I had one youngster last week with long hair refusing to cut his hair to get the job. He told me that he loved his hair more than anything in the world. I had to apologise since MNCs have their set of rules. But the next day this boy was there with his hair cropped. He explained that his dog had died.
It was touching. Love is priceless.
We had a lot of birthdays celebrated this month. I calculated nine months back to check the reason. Maybe it’s the summer vacation!!!!!
Keep smiling people. Life is too short to sulk.

A crisp New Year - Not Quite

There is nothing more risky than predicting future with the benefit of hindsight. I had thought nothing could be worse than 2010; a year of corruption, rising prices and non governance. We have a PM with the best resume but who gave every cynical reason to a cynical like me to believe in professional politicians rather than professionals as politicians. He almost made me nostalgic for Deve Gowda. And that means something!

Yet I was so wrong.


It’s the third day of a new year and still my cup of woes refuses to brim. My cup is what the Americans so eloquently describe while selling soda – bottom less. Miseries keep piling.

I woke up on the first day of a cracking new year with a sore throat. Then the servant bunked. While cleaning I broke a glass. One of the shards injured my hand.
As if that wasn’t enough, I woke up today with high fever. Worse I am cribbing too much.

I think I know the name of the disease. Its called old age.
Help me God. I need an extra drink. To all the youngsters reading my blog and thinking that male menopause is a myth, Think again. Or better wait till you reach there. Trust me its not funny.

There is something really funny about genes though. Yugesh, my nephew ,is imbibing some of my not so charming qualities by no fault of his. His only mistake- he is born in our family. But for me its hilarious to see some one else go through the same torment.

So , here he was booked comfortably in 2nd AC and woken up a good one hour before the train. He was to leave for Doon and there was so much time that he could even have walked to the station. A blessing really when your train is at 4 am. But people like us ,who are an evolved species, taking the comfortable trodden path is anathema. So he calls up the station, they tell his train is late, he relaxes a bit more than necessary till he knows that his train has already left. A havoc follows. i wouldnt want to embarass him with the details. I love you kid!

Be warned son, your life is full of such adventures just because of one folly. You are not even responsible for that. GENES.

The company who is doing my texture paint is owned by a very garrulous lady. She is one god’s creation. She is like a Bose sound system with no off button. She can really sap me off.
She was bugging me about my new year resolution. Chivalry forbade me from being honest.
When will people learn. If screaming was marketing, Dolly Bindra would be Rocket Singh!