Just Another J

>> October 11, 2009

Every J runs the danger of becoming just another J. And with the increasing rate of the decreasing marginal utility of lovingly rolled Js as the day goes by, Js are forgotten in the mayhem. In the beginning, I remember each J used to translate into a memory - very often, "cosmic connections" - and we would remember it, and laugh later. Now, Js are rolled out on conveyor belts like a factory assembling cars; and each J is smoked, and forgotten, as soon as the next one is ready. Each J becomes just. another. J.

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After Slog earnt herself a million karma points after her good deed for the day, we proceeded to indulge in a common hobby. Later, we combated each other to save our bums from being kicked by each other.

And, now, I shall sleep in my cosy, comfortable bed in my super clean room. It's really sad how WHM thinks my obsessive compulsion with constantly cleaning my room is symptomatic of an under-lying psychological problem.

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Two Steps Behind

>> October 10, 2009

I was separated from the rest of class by a secondary atmosphere, and attacking Sudoku, when Ms. Maithreyi brought up what she called a naughty issue. The class proceeded to raise questions with regard to this naughty issue, discuss and debate it. It obviously had something to do with the taxation of capital gains; but I could not ( and believe me, I tried very hard) figure out what , in the world, was naughty about it.

Later in the day, I asked around and was told that they were discussing a knotty issue.

How the hell was I to know?

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O'er the Hills and Far Away

>> October 5, 2009

I wonder, sometimes, what the first lines of my first book would be. I must admit, I unabashedly judge by a book by its first lines. By its cover, too. A classy simple book cover is a clincher. And a good beginning is so important to build the relationship with a book, its writer, his characters and their many stories. Good beginnings, my mother tells me, make for good endings. And good endings, after all, are what each one of us is looking for.

But, this business of good beginnings has – almost always, and invariably delayed my plunge. My life itself, from taking off. Apparently, some guy called Ivan Turgenov said that if you wait for the moment when everything, absolutely everything , is ready, you shall never begin. And that, I suppose, illustrates my life. Sometimes I feel like I am on the sidelines ,watching my life whiz past like the Chinese Maglev. And I wait there on the platform with the metaphorical piece of luggage which is too heavy for me, and as always, packed with stuff I will never use; waiting for that perfect train to arrive for me to hop in and take me to far away fantasies. But,of course, it never does. Sigh, sounds depressing, doesn’t it?


Perhaps, it's time I went past beginnings and looked for some ends.

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