random rumination

in a clear ringing voice, so very typical of her,she starts talking to me.

the first voice i hear as soon as i board the bus is hers, and almost always the last too.

as i settle down comfortably on my seat,the journey starts with a very cheery 'good morning' from her.

she talks about who is at a greater loss when it comes to the new dress code at the anna university.she talks about the tamil lover in our president .she talks about two trees made to tie the nuptial(?!!) knot so that the monsoon would not fail the farmers this year and proceeds to wonder which two non-human things could be made to enter the wed-lock so that some good befalls us,chennai-ites.she tells me which place is 'happening' .

i quietly listen to her as she keeps jabbering to me. she talks sense; she talks non-sense. well, that's her.

and i think..

sometimes it is better to listen to someone you would never know because she could never hurt you.

the devil's workshop

The idle mind is the devil's workshop - whoever said it, said it right.

On the self-defense mechanism, I would like to point out that it was not my fault that I, and hence my mind, was idle. Idleness is a phenomenon that inevitably occurs when you travel 4 hours a day on a single stretch of road (that for some strange reason, reminds me of bach's the brigde across forever)

This bright sunny morning, I boarded the bus a little before eight only to see the now-familiar faces at their usual seats, with a mild variation here and there. GRRRrrrr... some half-balding guy had encroached upon my favourite window seat, and despite the fact that I gathered all my non-verbal communication skills and glared at him to say that the seat was mine, he wouldn't budge half an inch and i resigned to my fate and slouched on a non-window seat.

Oblivious to my sorrow, half the population was resuming its sleep after an hourish break ,and which I am sure would not be broken through the day, except for lunch;the rest listening to the breathless blabber of Suchitra, chattering away on the municipolity's new stinking decision- to come up with parks and gardens on the banks of chennai's USP- the couam river! (see, my 'stinking' was justified!)As we went bumpity-bumpity-bump on the one long road leaving behind a series of pakkams,from some remote corner of my mind, that is still working, a slightly modified adage popped up pakkams may come and pakkams may go, but i go on for ever (on this silly bus)

Exactly at this point, I begin to wonder how the IT companies would have found out this place. Well, this is my theory

One day, after a bitter quarell with his wife, somu decided he would renounce this worldy life and go away to the himalayas. as he wandered northward, somewhere his sense of direction betrayed him, and before he realised he had travelled southward. Where he expected to see huge mountains blanketed with ice, he saw tall palm trees and half-dry shrubs, being grazed upon by the herds of buffalos by the dozen. He settled down there, and in a corner of a cowshed started the moo-moo software company and he grew to be a billionaire. And a thousand new entreprenuers sprung up and set up their companies also there.

And suddenly, the girl at the next seat jolted me to pass on the attendence sheet. I take it with a sheepish smile and pass it on.

well why cant paragliding be considered a normal mode of commuting?

how can I become an ace stock-investor?

At this point, the bus pulled up to a halt and people started filing out.