Blogger’s block seems to be my natural state, with some intermittent blogging scattered here and there. Hi!
Nothing remarkable has happened lately, if you discount the fact that I am WORKING. In a MUSEUM. And they PAY me and everything. I have a pension plan. ME. I mean, my day consisted of eating an apple here, reading a book there, watching TV, laughing at the BJP. And I am now in a flatshare, paying RENT. And I cook my own food (or what I call food, my parents beg to differ. Apparently Rajma does not a meal make). I sleep at reasonable hours and cannot actually function anymore with three hours of sleep. I joined the gym (That’s all, I haven’t actually been there after that little walk on the wild side). And I use a washing machine and worry about interest rates. I caught myself thinking of investments the other day. Christ. Dangerous notions need to be quashed at infancy, or I’ll soon be watching Sanskar TV and learning yoga, and then where will we be?
So, besides independent and semi-responsible living 101, what else is up? Nothing much, really. But I did see a guy running past me in Euston station, in trousers three sizes too large, flashing grey underwear. Yes, it was that evident, and yes, it is burnt into my retinas forever. Seriously. If you do need to show everyone your underwear, at least wear interesting ones like those Chandler has in one episode – ones with hearts (yes, again, I have spent years of my life watching Friends. Ask me to quote them. Go on, I dare you.) Or ones with Calvin and Hobbes, or Superman ones. Otherwise, KEEP THE DAMN TROUSERS UP. What will your grandmother think, eh? Heard of something called a belt? Handy things, those.
Oh, did I tell you about the 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle that I did, just to see if I could? It was finished after a lot of stubborn determination that I would not let something called ‘Flower Fairies’ defeat me. I think I might have become slightly more short sighted after that little adventure. It was very satisfying though, I can tell you that. These days, I am flapping around in art shops looking for marble paper (that’s craft paper, non-Indians) to make origami cranes. I learnt how to from someone at work. While I don’t intend to make a Thousand Origami Cranes to make my wishes come true (if I had to wish, I’d probably wish for a thousand of them first, made and delivered to my doorstep), I am contemplating making a few to hang about in my room. That, my friends, is the extent of my arty side. After that I am going to learn how to knit. A sock, anyone? Fun times! I am clearly living life on the edge here people!
This blog post, in case you haven’t already noticed, is not about anything in particular (unlike all my other very focused, profound, thought driven posts). I'm trying to ‘inspire’ myself by actually putting something up, hoping that its ghastliness will scare me into quickly writing something sounding slightly more intelligent and not make my parents wonder where all that money they spent on my education went.
Or I could always go back to watching Vampire Diaries I suppose.
2 comments:
Are we caught in a system that trains us to see solving a jigsaw puzzle less intelligent than reading established texts? Why cant an origami crane be as interesting as a stock market study?
Ohh, hardly! I hope that is not how my post came across. First of all, screw the system. According to the system, my degree, work, is not 'real'/'serious' work. The day we take the system to heart, we will become automatons, doing what others think is right.
Anything that gives you pleasure, makes the moment spent doing it happy, then you are doing it right :)
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