Month: January 2007

One of the perks of growing up is that you can now give (and receive) expensive gifts. On a related note, here’s what I made my new phone do with some hackery.

I was to have bragged about this some time ago, but it slipped my mind. Ah well.

It’s probably one of those things you fantasise about your entire life—getting to sit up close to the one captivating woman you’ve not been able to take your eyes off since you’ve gotten past security and reached your gate. More often than not (every single time?), these sorts of hopes spawn and fade nearly instantaneously, but this time things are different.

An eleven-and-a-half hour long flight passes like it’s nothing at all. You’re paying tribute to and wishing the best for the ticketing agents and their families.

Only the next morning do you wake in horror and realise you’ve parted without scribbling down a means to keep in touch.

It’s a few A.M. and I can’t really sleep. I’m jotting this down as I stroll around outside my hotel room, almost as if I’m searching for another insomniac to alleviate the loneliness. Where, by ‘insomniac,’ I probably mean ‘sexually frustrated person.’ But they’re the same thing right? Right?

This would be a lot easier if I were curled up at home under familiar settings, but no, I’m stuck in some dingy hotel in what is (allegedly) the most happening city my country has to offer. You see, I’m here for a friend’s wedding, a sort of pompous “mostly north-Indian, slightly south-Indian tradition fused” affair; one which has actually been rather charming to experience. There has been much festivity over the past few days here, epitomised by the elegantly-dressed folk and their song and dance… and drink.

The wedding gift lovingly crafted by Crayola with my pictures over the past many nights was a huge hit; complete with phrases like “this is easily the best gift ever” and “I hope you know our kids and you make it to their wedding,” and culminated with my embarrassment on the dais as I was forced to accept hugs and laurels as I was presenting it.

Upon repeated explanation of the piece,

A clear-enough digital version to see some detail:

A crappy picture of the final product showing the mostly-transparent framing and size in relation to a couch:

I began to behave like this masterful story-teller on a book tour—pausing for effect when somebody was gawking wide-eyed, and overemphasising the corny bits I knew people were greedily eating up. While all this was rip-roaring fun superficially, I was furious deep down (What’s new, you say?). Apart from the usual anger triggers, I ended up having to deal with a bit more than I’d bargained for. Harping on specifics never did anyone any good, so I’ll leave you with a couple of unrelated observations:

1. North-Indian women—at least the ones who were brave enough to show a lot of skin—have the smoothest, creamiest backs I have ever seen.
2. While instinctively salivate-worthy, they—the ones I was brave enough to talk properly to—still sound as dumb as one would imagine.

Which brings us full circle. Good night.

For just a few days of my miserable existence, I don’t want some nonsensical thing or the other causing me extreme rage. I know I am not a happy person generally, but then again, I have little reason to be. For once, just once, I wish only nice, somewhat-happy events keep happening around me so I don’t feel like beating some incompetent moron down to a bloody pulp.

I really wish.

But are relationships harder?

I know you’ve missed me over these past two weeks, and you’re probably at a point where you’ve begun to worry for my safety… or something. But no need to fear, all is well.

And by ‘well,’ I mean ‘horrid.’

You see, I’m technically on a holiday—one that’s extended quite a bit more than officially sanctioned—but it doesn’t feel like one at all. There has been little, if no, rest or relaxation, and most of my days are consumed with activities I don’t care for and drama I care even less for. Forget being at a state where I can write, I am barely at a state where I want to leave my bed in the morning. Life is too frickin’ complicated, and it involves way too much work to navigate successfully.

In fact, forget successfully, it involves way too much effort to navigate, period. And I’m not even sure if it’s worth it.

A happy new year indeed. Bah.