mon objet du désir

It was, five years ago that I saw her for the first time.

Her pictures adorned the walls of my room. She was just a prototype then, just another head-turner in the inermot show. Seeing her picture, me and my fellow bunch of nut-cases had let out a huge “WWWAAAOOOUUWWW” in unison, and had bellowed with rage, squirmed with irreverence towards our own luck, writhed with ecstasy, and finally given in to the futility of all such intense desires, the nirvana of an un-attainable kind. It’s the Yam MT-01 I am talking about.

Five years since, the sight of its factory version has turned out to be even more perilous to my extremely fatuous mind. I can afford to take a look at the picture only at my own risk, for it leaves me in another fit of depression.



More at: http://www.totalmotorcycle.com/photos/2005models/2005models-Yamaha-MT01.htm

Comments

Anonymous said…
hey I thgt I'd just look at your blog and say Hi to you.:)
~Indu
7:51 PM
Unknown said…
Thanks for dropping by!

I thought I'd never get a comment for this item despite being something I really cared about! :D
9:47 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Many many happy returns of the day? Maybe not!

Thus, Bejoy Babu enters into the thirtieth year of his  great struggle for existence against the elements of this planet last week. Like his very first year, he did it again in a hospital room. Talk about the ironies of life. Back then, he had a young and energetic father, who had sat hours on end admiring the red little thingy in a white wrapper (am hoping he did, most newly promoted fathers do, don't they? At least Ross Gellar of Friends did when Ben was born!). And now, 29 years later, his father was lying down weak, with tubes attached to his body, while he sat hours on end looking at him. Not admiring, but worried when his father will become alright, he will be able to go back, whether his leaves would affect his job, how the great plans of a first birthday together with his wife was spoilt etc etc. Oh 'cmon, there's no use being pretentious about it. Nobody enjoys this particular disposition. He didn't do it either, and he managed to kill time with 2 activities. 1
Read more

Puttum Kadalayum

"Puttum Kadalayum" doesn't really sound like something big enough to hinge one's career decisions upon. But it is. It was meant to be nothing more than a casual remark when Ch asked me yesterday, "Bangalore-ilo Pune -ilo poyal pinne puttum kadalem evidunnu kazhikkum??" But I know it, and he knows it too, that the Qn was a fatal setback to my plans to switch the current job for a better(?) one. I was crouching low down, ready to lift myself off, but this very innocuous sounding Qn made me sit back, and rethink. So what is it about Puttum Kadalayum? Apart from being my favourite breakfast...(I am no glutton, but this combo, with pappadam as the kinky sidekick, brings me to my knees, literally.) it represents everything good about working in TVM. There is a certain noisy chord inside me which is still chanting I should run to a metro. The fatter paychecks, the late-night discos, the cosmopolitan crowd, the rock concerts... hmm. Have you ever stuck yourself into
Read more

The price of development

Image
There used to be a strecth of road on my way to work, which had an enormous(by Trivandrum standards) paddy field on one side. From the Terrace of Bhavani, it looked beautiful, the light green patch among the otherwise darker green canopy. And it was green all year round. I don't know what was peculiar about that particular crop, for I have seen such paddy fields change color with seasons. In the evenings the place would be swarming with small flying insects, which hit our faces like missiles when we rode through the stretch. On friday nights, while returning from the routine carouse sessions, we used to stop by the place, releive ourselves, talk and watch the stars, before getting convinced ourselves that the ground is not moving beneath our feet, and the bed back home would be a much cozier place to spend the night. The whole place is red now. No, paddy fields can't change color. But the land is getting filled. We can see Tipper lorries bearing "Emergency: Technopark work
Read more