October 18, 2006

Cold Love

It is that time of the year again when the shadows creep in pleasantly, much earlier than normal during the afternoons. The days have an almost-golden glow to them, it is a bit too warm now, but in another couple of weeks the chill should blunt it considerably and with that would come out the first of the winter clothes. Winter in Delhi is a heady romantic drink that affects all the senses. Veils of fog adorn the day in differing denseness, there is always a riot of colours on street and late evenings bring out the roadside fires and leftover embers that glow milder every time into their eventual demise.

Thus, it is no wonder that winter always brings with it the memories of all my past relationships - both cold and warm - drifting back into my mind. While watching Closer recently, it struck me that people who have loved me the most have also pretty much hated me the most too at some point or the other in their lives. I never thought that was actually possible till the pattern was way too obvious to ignore and too commonplace to miss after all these years. But the good part is that I don't feel burdened by them. In fact I feel quite free and it is the best I've felt probably all my life.

But what exactly is love between two people? Does "I love you" signify more the fact that I love you for loving me or that I love you just like that? And what exactly is love expressed in terms of percentages of caring and concern? And no, it is not like I don't believe in love anymore, it is just that I think a lot of people misplace it for a lot of other things.

October 15, 2006


Call it an epiphany or call it whatever you would want to, but when you are up late in the night, largely unwillingly, in a strange room full of snoring people, aided by the laptop that beams out today's Orkut's fortune as "Our first and last love is.. self-love" you'd have to admit that life has a stellar sense of irony or something like that. It all harks back to a time long gone and situations that I just don't fancy ever being a part of, if I could have my way. But life does extract its two penny worth of revenge every now and then by making sure you that don't have it all your way, at least not all the time.

If it can't be irony, then it has to be the proclivity for life's events to repeat itself that must be commended with a royal gesture like the Nobel Prize. It was about a similar set of circumstances, after being in the same building, that I'd written rather bitterly about on this blog a couple of years ago. But this time, there is no déjà vu. I am not about throw in the towel, sport a major sulk, half a pout and despair endlessly about how it is just not worth it and how things will always suck. Thankfully, things have changed at my end, but I can't help but wonder how much change is actually good, right or even justified.

As things stand, I have very little in common with my roots anyway. Not that I care much about it, since I do enjoy most of what I do these days without any regrets, but it does have a funny angle to it when the dear mother mentions on more than one occasion that 'back then' you never used to be this way, which is again a sentiment echoed by acquaintances/friends who have run into me after a very long time. Though I can't exactly say that I am unmoved by the derision I've felt way too often in the past couple of days, I've honestly been intrigued more this unrelenting progress of the self into the unknown without any particular reason behind it.

In a weird way, I am getting to know myself - the real me - in all its good and awful glory for the first time in my life. It feels like fresh, warm blood flowing into veins that have remained dry for a lifetime. It is a journey of discovering the most basic and tiniest of things that most would have taken for granted for most of their lives, even at the risk of sounding like an imbecile most times these days. But for now I think I should get some sleep. It is past 2:30 in the morning and the snoring has subsided in line with the gradual demise of my questions regarding what the hell am I doing in such a cramped set up when I could comfortably be sleeping in my bed at home.

Then again, remember the part about revenge. Yes, that is what this is all about.

October 02, 2006

All things remaining the same..

To the lovely folk at Jhanki.com (no linky love for the naughty peeps), blindly pimping your own product in comments on other blogs is not the most brilliant marketing idea that anyone had ever come up with. For prior art, refer to to Sulekha vs the Indian bloggers, ruling 100101. Since I am commenting on it, I would also suggest that it is also not the best idea to run a website that aggregates content related to India on pages with the ISO encoding, switch to UTF-8 and be happy me hearties. You know, everything that RubyOnRails or the next coolest framework with scaffolding and the works suggests to you is not exactly the gospel.

Meanwhile, Shashikant (he's been my favourite blogger for a while now, he really _should_ write more often than he does) tears into the latest broadside on bloggers by someone who I guess is a veteran deskie. The points mentioned there are not worth responding to. Really, everyone deserves to have their monthly, quarterly, annual episodes of outrage a la Oprah Winfrey. Let the man have his in peace. Though, some, like Shivam, seems to have taken it rather personally and as I speak write, is said to be on his way to stage a sit-in outside the Times House at ITO. The man is also said to have hidden a few Google bombs too his jhola to spray the MD with. Ouch.

Life merrily moves on otherwise. It is day three of an unintended mini-break from work today. Since it is that time of the year in north India when painters and construction workers become more sought after than film stars or politicians, the same fate has befallen my humble pigeon hole and it's been a case of mini migrations within the house, from one room to another, for the past three days. I think it is a nice thing to work from home. I should try this more often, but the speeds allowed by GPRS is just one degree short of being truly unusable. Time to get MTNL on the line and make my little Linksys WRT45G visible to the outside world.