In Whino Veritas
One cannot hope to join the elite list of bloggers, one notices, till one has written about the dreaded “writer’s block”. (All snide remarks about the remainder qualifications for being an elite blogger may be dispensed with for the nonce, please).
I thought, therefore, that we would write something suitably grave and vague. Indicating how words, wisps of insubstantial clouds languorously drifting away, now seem to be eluding one’s grasp. How language, till yesterday a slave begging for attention, seems to have turned a coquette, dancing away with laughing promises from the arms that reach out to her.
Errr. Anyway.
There was a time when misplaced pretensions to kindheartedness nearly led to an unplanned abbreviation of the allotted span. That thrilling account, complete with spine-chilling details of our intrepid ...anyway. As I was saying, we decided that what was required was a blogworthy incident. And having thus resolved, (mentally adjusting that banner with the strange device, Excelsior! (having also checked that it came with the exclamation mark)) (and having checked that our brackets match) we set out to Carpe inspiration. (Actually, to work, in the hope that there would be more of “important” meetings and less of actual-by-god crisis managing that has plagued us for the last 4-6 weeks).
Oh well. In the lift, one noticed suddenly that the fly was undone. These things happen sometimes. Did we say we were intrepid ? Add to that, suave. A mere shift of the laptop to ensure that this discovery was ours alone. The liftman was picking his teeth with a match displaying the intentness of a Leakey with a skull. Not noticed. The schoolteacher who stays 2 floors above caught our eye. She gave a bright smile. ( The bright smile teachers always give). (Before they ask all those who have not finished homework to stand up on the bench). But not the look of somebody figuring out if you are the kind of perv who flashes at women in lifts. Maybe an Incident would’ve been blogworthy, but nix non nada nothing. Maybe it was for the better.
Had a flat coming back after another exhausting day. Got out of the car, and signaled for a taxidriver from the stand nearby to come and fix the spare. In Shantaram, the hero gets all kinds of heartwarming dialogues about how India is about the heart, don’t you know, from a taxi driver. This guy merely asked for 20 bucks, grimly assented when I bummed a ciggie off him, and completed his work in silence. No dialock, no block. Rather, blog.
Sigh.
Eat, drink, sleep, work. The hundred banalities of a nondescript existence. Where is Life when you want to describe it ?
I thought, therefore, that we would write something suitably grave and vague. Indicating how words, wisps of insubstantial clouds languorously drifting away, now seem to be eluding one’s grasp. How language, till yesterday a slave begging for attention, seems to have turned a coquette, dancing away with laughing promises from the arms that reach out to her.
Errr. Anyway.
There was a time when misplaced pretensions to kindheartedness nearly led to an unplanned abbreviation of the allotted span. That thrilling account, complete with spine-chilling details of our intrepid ...anyway. As I was saying, we decided that what was required was a blogworthy incident. And having thus resolved, (mentally adjusting that banner with the strange device, Excelsior! (having also checked that it came with the exclamation mark)) (and having checked that our brackets match) we set out to Carpe inspiration. (Actually, to work, in the hope that there would be more of “important” meetings and less of actual-by-god crisis managing that has plagued us for the last 4-6 weeks).
Oh well. In the lift, one noticed suddenly that the fly was undone. These things happen sometimes. Did we say we were intrepid ? Add to that, suave. A mere shift of the laptop to ensure that this discovery was ours alone. The liftman was picking his teeth with a match displaying the intentness of a Leakey with a skull. Not noticed. The schoolteacher who stays 2 floors above caught our eye. She gave a bright smile. ( The bright smile teachers always give). (Before they ask all those who have not finished homework to stand up on the bench). But not the look of somebody figuring out if you are the kind of perv who flashes at women in lifts. Maybe an Incident would’ve been blogworthy, but nix non nada nothing. Maybe it was for the better.
Had a flat coming back after another exhausting day. Got out of the car, and signaled for a taxidriver from the stand nearby to come and fix the spare. In Shantaram, the hero gets all kinds of heartwarming dialogues about how India is about the heart, don’t you know, from a taxi driver. This guy merely asked for 20 bucks, grimly assented when I bummed a ciggie off him, and completed his work in silence. No dialock, no block. Rather, blog.
Sigh.
Eat, drink, sleep, work. The hundred banalities of a nondescript existence. Where is Life when you want to describe it ?
Ah finally. THIS we like very much. Thank you :D
Posted by
Anonymous |
November 12, 2006 7:04 AM
Maybe (and I may add perhaps too) the maam saw the truth and like God waited?!
Nothing more is mentioned of that lift ride so one concludes (rightly or otherwise) that she waited in vain
Posted by
Shankari |
November 12, 2006 2:53 PM
Err... So Fornication Under the Consent of the King has taken a backseat. No wonder the posts were FAR from Forthcoming :P.
Posted by
Anonymous |
November 12, 2006 3:56 PM
Ph : We too, like this very much. Thank You kindly.
Shankari : Sigh, the nondescript life only.
Me : Clean up your act kid, we separate the X-rated posts from the others : )
Posted by
?! |
November 12, 2006 6:55 PM
Hello. Would you kindly explain in plain English (an example one could recognise?) what are "misplaced pretensions to kindheartedness". Is there a facial expression I could practice to achieve this?
Thanks.
Posted by
Leo |
November 17, 2006 4:24 PM
if we're talking of the crawling hissie (the hussy we leave for another day another story)...it was not intrepid but...ah well...
:D
Posted by
Anonymous |
November 18, 2006 4:22 PM
Chile,chile...How formal we are,we already like you. For the self-trumpet reference, read
http://dubiousmove.blogspot.com/2006/03/rattle-and-hum.html
PecBird : Gah, of course we meant that. And WHAT or rather WHICH hussy ? I wish!
Posted by
?! |
November 18, 2006 5:52 PM