Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Say that again....

"We perceive no reason," the Supreme Court ruled, "why both parents of a child cannot be women."

I leave it to you to think and comment on this one. Mentally/visually challenged readers can also take part. (I mean no offense, please)

Go to article in NY times.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Gossipping!

THUD! It hit me like a missile. For a moment, darkness spread into my eyes, I lost footing, but finally managed stay firm on ground. He thinks its funny, throwing stuff at me like that. I wish one day I could stand up tall against him and spit it all out on his face. But I know I can’t. Never, ever.

Let me introduce the other characters of this house. There are three of them. Let’s call them X1, X2 and X3, for the sake of obscurity. The three of them live in the house, with me. And I, am the waste bin, to say it straight without any pretensions. I sit, or stand, or whichever way you prefer to call it, in a dark corner of the room, in front of the wash basin and the mirror. I wish I could walk up and claim my rightful place in the house, which I would prefer to be, in the center of the room. But since I don’t have limbs, or those who have, won’t bother to do me that favor, I end up sulking in this dark corner. They do take me, occasionally out, into the sun. And I love it. Oh don’t get the wrong idea, Im not one of those idiotic romantic types who start melting when they hear the chirping of a bird or feel the warmth of the sun etc… I don’t give a shit for all those. I love it because when they take me outside, they clean me up of all their shit. And keep me back in my own private tropical island. Squeaky clean, glistening, just ready to take in more crap. Ah, life’s good!

I could go on for days about crap if I start, I guess when it comes to crap, there is no one better educated than me. But I guess you folks won’t really be interested, folks are always interested in gossip about other folks’ lives, which I think is crap anyway. Stuff like - X3 checks out his receding hairline 30 minutes everyday in front of the mirror. X1 thinks X25 is an asshole. And X2 stares into the mirror like he can see the other side. That’s the kind of stuff folks are interested in.

Like this one day, all of them were having some booze party, there were noises and laughter all around, and I was getting so damn tired of all this hullabaloo when I found a dark shadow approaching. It was X2, he came and stood in front of the mirror, silently for a long time, I suspect he was crying. But I just heard him roaring with laughter minutes ago. Then, just like he came, he went and joined the laughter. I don’t understand these folks. Maybe some of you reading might be able to make some sense out of all these. What’s that goon X1 doing when he stands staring at himself on end, sometimes talking some mumbo-jumbo I can’t make out? He strikes me as pretty edgy at times. But he’s okay when he’s with others. Thank god he’s stopped examining his bulging biceps these days, for, they don’t bulge anymore (in that location, but elsewhere), and any effort on his part to make them bulge is only likely to escape as rear-gas. Yuck! And to think I stand right in the firing line. Folks are so obsessed with their biceps, their hair, their tummies, and their… oh forget it! We didn’t quite talk about X3 did we? We will, on another occasion.

Another THUD!

***Goes silent****

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

The season of longing.

Who gives a shit for primordial urges these days? Man has come a long way from cages, and such things as mating and reproducing are carried out with the same seasonal fervor, only by those dogs in the streets. That reminded me of last Friday, when the naughty little puppy who suddenly began to do the thing to his sweetheart, a white long-legged beauty with a sexy scar on her face, in public and in broad daylight, and in authentic doggie fashion! And not to mention the utter discomfort that caused to the waiting public, and as some kids were staring open-mouthed wondering what in the world is going on, their parents were scampering desperately to catch an auto or a bus and flee from the scene, not even bothering to look at the routes. Didn’t they betray a shade of jealousy for our little canine couple who seemed to care all about nothing but the job at hand, I wondered!

The reason for such a contentious topic now, (I am sure half of my morally obligated readers have left by now) is that our discussions for the past few days have been hovering dangerously close to marriages, love affairs, high school crushes and the like. Hence the thoughts about mating season. I don’t think we’ve lost that gene completely, and it’s gently poking its head out of the hole, waking up from hibernation. Only in these times of such things as onsite deputations, B school admissions, Pay hikes and such occupying the top of our heads, these urges have been reduced to the scale of mere frivolities. And btw, nothing is more lame than a s/w engineer marrying another. Imagine, what could be more romantic than cooking your dinner together discussing the missing factor in RTM which caused another possible Change request to slip so flippantly away. Have you tried discussing the SQA audit over grating carrots? O man, its pure satori. (Pr, If you’re reading this, yes, I was inspired during the visit I paid to your place last day, and please forgive me. No offence…and the halwa was delicious!)

And one such frivolity, about a decade back, suddenly caught my attention last week. I stumbled upon my high school autograph. O don’t get into the impression that we happened to have reserved adjoining seats in the Jan Shatabdi express or something, in fact, I was searching for it and found it. And while lazily flipping through the pages I was nothing short of given “the treatment of the year” to read the jottings in there from my high-school sweet heart. I mean I was instantly elevated to a higher plane. (Dear X, if you are reading this somehow/somewhere, my home phone number is still the same ;-) ).

Those were the days!

More coming soon….