Thursday, 10 June 2010

Smoke through a keyhole

Anonymity is a luxury. I came home little over a fortnight back looking forward to spending the month in the snug embrace of my quilt, with the World Cup and Mum's coffee to keep me awake. Earlier today, I received a call from my old school requesting me to turn up and share my two fils' worth on IIT, the universe and everything, being one of the most prolific students to emerge from the narrow corridors of the Indian School Bahrain. Their words, not mine. As it turns out, I am something of a legend in these parts, with a fan base comparable to that of Shakira. Or, for that matter, Puneet Singh Jaggi.

One of the reasons I come home as rarely as I do is the confrontation with the past that it inevitably results in. Reminders of the estrangement of my past and present selves await me at every turn. A Westlife CD here, a Full House poster there- my search for answers only yields more questions. Is there no part of us that survives the irrevocable march of time? If change was indeed a good thing, wouldn't nostalgia lose its purpose? Are the things we do and the people we like truly a reflection of who we are underneath? Do our inner and outer selves ever match up? Is life really worth all the effort it takes to survive? What exactly makes it worth it? Why ask useless questions? How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky? Who is John Galt?

Late edit: Six hours after I typed this post out, I found this


The Decayed Canine said...

Who is John Galt? That jibe at PSJ might just cost you your share in his F500 company of the future. :)
And he still is your official romance counsel with me, sunka and Galt as witness! :D
Since your disillusioned, and twenty something, come over to B'luru. We're waiting for you to join our miserable company, Surdy and I.

Triple H said...

You forgot to put the Ultimate Question. And why is the world a wannabe? (with requisite body movements).

I'll answer one question for you. You know getting out of R is a good thing. But the nostalgia of sitting huddled up for formatting in G-81, Cautley isn't exactly pointless, is it?

Anunaya Jha said...

Change is inevitable. Not that anyone wants to!
And Full House?! I need THAT poster. NOW! :D

Krow-Nose said...

Quilt? Bagarain? Summer? Surely you are joking Mr.Sundar?

The Juveniles adding me on facebook have made wonder about something much more important. Who is Justin Beiber?

Anonymous said...

I don't need a romance counsel any more. I'm well into the 'sab-moh-maya-hai' phase. Or the sour grapes phase, whichever way you look at it.

Plus PSJ's stock has fallen. His success rate stands at a paltry 25%.

Oh darn. How could I?
P.S: Remind me to forward 'the' chat session the next time you find me online.

I would have given it to you if it weren't for the lovely Lori Loughlin. There are some things you never grow out of :)

It's a desert da. It gets quite chilly in the nights.
Justin Beiber is this talentless 15year old pop star who makes kouwi females go, 'Aww, cho chweet'.