It was something that always happened to others - Murphy was working overtime to screw them over. Off late, it seems to be happening to me. Usually I don't care about anything enough to actually plot and scheme until it happened. OK, that's a lie.. but still.. Murphy was not supposed to notice me.. I am queen of the inconspicuous!!
Yet, he found me. And is systematically proceeding to ruin my life.
Other than Murphy, nothing has happened to me the last 3 months. I did have a few amazing weekends, actually (like genuine joy type weekends, OK??). Which I obviously won't be talking about here.
Even if you don't want to know why, I will tell you.. cos I am in a terribly chatty mood today.. plus my evening plans didn't work out. So... I was saying... that... I will tell you why I won't be telling you about my amazing weekends, etc:
- Just...
- No one deserves to know (teeheehee)
- This blog was not about anything sunny - hell, if there was something sunny to happen to me why would i share it??
- I have been told I'm best when I'm whining.. so i intend to stick to my USP
Radio is my friend. I can't live without radio. In fact, I am going to write on radio in another post...
The time is 11.12 as I start writing this piece. My mind is drenched in cobalt and sepia - wonder what mood can be ascribed to this combination.
On TV is one of those dark american movies that Hollywood loves to make. Proves to you that the world isnt pretty. You're all snuggled up in bed, cosy enough to forgive the day its faults and disappointments, and here comes along a movie that reminds you that the world is not such a pretty place afterall.
How many of us follow an entire Hollywood movie like it is a thriller or detective or autobiographical or drama novel? Doesn't it reduce to a bunch of images put together under some rationale, for us to witness and take away whatever from? Maybe some of them will remain in our scattered memories.. only to resurface later.. much later. At a disconnected point of time long into the future. Which is why almost every emotion feels like deja vu? Cos you've already been through it in proxy.
How much of what we feel is really ours? Or is that as real as it gets?
Joyous Jala is only Jyenagar Jala today. She is watching mass produced Hollywood soppiness and drinking it all in. Its so much easier to feel sorry for oneself when pretty images are constantly hurled at you from the idiot box.
Democratisation of loneliness. Here everybody, now all of you get your own personal little stash of self-pity. Who needs to socialise to feel bad about themselves anymore. You can do it in your own living room or bedroom. Much fun it will be.
People say when you want something, go ahead and work hard for it. It will come to you. Coelho even makes money out of dishing the same drivel.
But the real misfortune is that, I remember having read it.
