Friday, February 11, 2005
Cracking some nuts
Alarming trend here. My blogging frequency has come down to unheard-of levels - once a week. Sigh. I hate my job, I hate my job, I hate my job... not even free internet compensates for it anymore! What's the use of free internet if I can't use it in appropriately wasteful avenues?! But no, I'm supposed to use the net to find out stuff about rupee movements and crude oil prices and backgrounds of crappy companies in the Indian hinterland whose crappy shares seem to be jumping on the stock market because of the herd mentality of some crappy mob! Sigh - I could start a whole bitchfest here.
Am in the mood of for something irreverent, I think. Something silly, something I don't have to labour over silly statistics for. Suddenly, Page 3 doesn't seem like a joke anymore! Whatever happened to the strong idealistic journalism classes drilled into me for 10 months? Well, I may just have a hole somewhere at the back of my head from where things filter out... And besides, I doubt journalistic ideals (whatever they are!) have much to do with tracking the markets!
Deep breath. Pause.
Happy cloud on the horizon: My trip plans are very much on. I'm going back to Delhi, to roam in Connaught Place, laze in Gurgaon, chill at Saket, eat pancakes with blueberry sauce at the Habitat Centre, and VEGETATE.
And I guess that's why I wrote another short story. It's called Goodbye, and here's the customary excerpt:
"She's not the one I saw you talking with, outside your building? The cute, high-brow one?"
I laugh in a cackle. I wonder what my 'high-brow' friend would say, on hearing she's been noticed by him. She's the most darling creature you ever saw, the most unpossessing creature, who finds it so utterly ridiculous to think that there are men in the world who would find her attractive, the kind of women who usually have the most admirers. "No, she's not the one. This one's different. This one is the Big Flirt. Love her, hate her, bitch with her, bitch about her. Like Delhi."
Mirror Mirror #7: I jhugged both Medicals and CAT, so I may be doomed to remain an 'idealistic journalist' for the rest of my life! Scary thought!
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