Another one goes by. I had cake, lots of chicken, double choco chip cookies, awesome people treating me in a restaurant, some phone calls and a mail. And ignorance. At the end of the day, I am a year older and still not any wiser. So I guess, happy birthday to me.

P.S: All the recent visit entries are from Germany and these people have been visiting a particular post. So either I am suddenly very popular in Germany or Megan Fox is. I suspect the second though.

Almost the nicest day in a long long time :)

Its been a month today. And I keep staring at the phone.

Where was I again...

Princeton is a beautiful little town. The University buildings, the dorms, the narrow alleyways and even the restrooms in restaurants look nice. With all that gothic architecture and all. And I don't even know what gothic architecture is. In fact, I don't have the slightest idea about what the term "gothic" means or refers to. But that doesn't quite hinder me from reading "gothic" romance novels and discussing them in detail with English Literature students or even claiming the vampire Count Dracula to be a "gothic" romantic hero. The only thing that comes to my mind in reference to "gothic" is a particular Asterix comic book where the duo beats up some goths other than their usual beating-the-romans session. Speaking of Asterix, my friends from my "paRa"(Neighborhood or neighbourhood, take your pick. Even red riding hood is okay with me, especially after I found out that she can actually beat Spiderman and Wolverine in a fight)used to call me Asterix in spite of the fact that I more closely resembled Obelix. Or Dogmatix, as some of my present acquaintances would suggest. Later they just used to call me "Asto". And I still remember one day when a friend asked me "Asto re, jabi?" and I absent mindedly asnwered "Astor-e jaoar moton poysa nei." But to come back to the original point, Princeton is a very pretty place. And almost all the cab drivers there are from Haiti, which is a strange place in itself because apparently a lot of people there have "prophet" as a surname! Cab rides in Princeton is fun, especially if there is an Indian, two Italians, one Taiwanese and one Haitian(I am not sure if that is actually a word)in it, discussing why "ciao" means both greetings and goodbye in Italy. So yeah, there you go.

Some people have always told me that I am a masochist. But I have had no reason to believe them. Btw, yesterday I wrote "believe" as "beleive" and did not even reallize my mistake for a long time. Shows that irregular blogging can take a toll on your spelling skills. Anyway, as I was saying some people have always told me that I am a masochist. But I have had no reason to believe them.Until a few days ago. It so happened that one particular evening, I was pretty bored and had nothing to do. Which is quite a regular thing to be honest. So I decided to watch a film. Which is again a quite regular thing. And of all the films in my hard disk, I decided to watch Rituparno Ghosh's "Dosar: The companion". In spite of my roommate's sincere warnings. I am in no mood to speak of how I felt later on. And also just because I like to hop around the house or beat my chest around midday, my roommate thinks I need therapy. People are so inconsiderate!

Snippets

1) An obscenely fat woman sat on a side lower berth of Rajdhani Express, dressed in a nightie or maxi or whatever it is called, her hair open, her biceps showing menacingly as she looked at me and licked her fingers. First time in a train, I spent a sleepless night and later reallized Takashi Miike looks for inspirations at all the wrong places.

2) Delhi was great. Old school friends cooking machhbhaat for me, fellow film buffs, kebabs and biriyani from Tundai, Signature alongwith fishfries and lots of films on my hard disk. And I finally learned to stand up to everything.

3) The flight was long and quite uneventful barring the incredibly hot air hostesses in tight red skirts and the weird steward who on being asked to get me a whiskey on the rocks, smiled inappropriately and said "on the rocks? how cool is that!".

4) Turns out that having conversations with Albanian cab drivers about communists and Bollywood only results in paying more tip than you usually do. Not cool.

5) And I still haven't found a place to stay. I guess I will have to stay with the people I am staying with right now. They are very good people. Only that they decide to fight with anti-flu sprays and mosquito repellants in the morning and reallize at the middle of the night that they need something to eat and they are out of rations. Its kinda fun though.

81st post

When I was a student in elementary school, the number 10, to me, was the sign of completeness. I would do whatever work was assigned by my mother and after finishing them successfully, would not be pleased until she came and assured me that my effort was worth a 10 out of 10. Not 100, not 1000, not anything else but 10. And 9 just preceeding 10, was the sign of incompleteness to my naive mind. That is when I developed a peculiar liking for the number 81. I have never known why, but I have always loved this number. Whenever someone has asked me to pick a number between 1 to 100(which was quite a no. of times as one of my relatives is a numerologist), I have picked 81 most no. of times. Later, my mind has reasoned that since 9 was a sign for incompleteness to me, 9 squared(which is 81 btw, for the mathemetically challenged, which I am sure there are quite a few amongst my blog readers) was perhaps a symbol for the completely incomplete man that I have grown to be(yes, I have never worn a Raymonds suit). Anyways, I hope everyone gets the drift by now. I mean, this is my blog's 81st post, and I am visbly quite excited about it. So excited that I forgot what I wanted to write about cows. Yes, I did want to write something about cows. But I cant remember what it was about the tame bovine creatures that intrigued me so. Maybe sometime later when my memory stops failing me, I shall. Till then, keep your valuable comments coming about why I end up writing "everythong" or "somethong" instead of "everything" or "something" every damned time. Please to avoid cliches like Freudian slips. I mean, did Freud ever wear slips? Now that is something worth pondering over. So I will, for now.