I remember it like yesterday, which in a weird and twisted way it was. And which in  a weird and twisted way does not imply that I remember yesterday very well since most of it was spent recovering from a dozen shots of vodka from the night before. I was 11. My father, like all fathers of that era, made it a point to attend every PTA meeting. There are times when I wonder why they don't make fathers that way anymore. Guilt money has substituted parental obligations. But that is beyond the purview of this blog. We don't take up unpleasant issues, even if they are potential pandora's boxes.

Mr. Ravi Kumar. He was my science teacher. Some say Scripto has brilliant memory if he can remember something that far down the lane. Others say he has nothing better to remember. Either way there are serious concerns over his life, or the lack of it. But I digress. Digression is something I have successfully managed to avoid in my last few posts. Depressing. Especially since I had made it into something of an art form.

Inspite of myself, I am not above making 'tribute' posts. That trait is in line with the bundle of contradictions that I am. But if this is a tribute post, then what is Mr. Ravi Kumar doing on it? Two reasons. One, I like showing off my memory. Two, the tribute is not to him. The story, however, must be told.

See, it was during that infamous PTA meeting when my father introduced himself to Mr. Kumar for the very first time. And how did Mr. Kumar respond? Simply, "Oh oh, you are Scripto's (of course, he did not call me that - I am just using a pseudonym here) father. I am his fan!" Now the point to be noted here is that Mr. Kumar's English was very non-gult like, which means he did not mean to say, "He is my fan" and ended up saying it the other way round. To the lot of us who have heard sentences like, "He has not come to work today. I hope he is not well." when in fact it should have been "He has not come to work today. I think he is not well", coming across a gult who knows his English is more than a welcome relief.

I have not known Scripto-fan long enough to say anything about her English. But I am willing to look on the brighter side of things for a change, despite my gloomy outlook. This post is a tribute to her. Long live Scripto-fan and her ilk!

Current Mood: Gloomy
Current Music: Some band playing behind my office...
It is funny, and disconcerting at the same time, that my best posts get no attention at all while the so-so ones have people clamouring for spaces in the comments section. Does this mean I have finally become what they always said I would become? Someone who writes mediocre stuff simply because more readers understand it, which eventually translates into a larger reader-base? Am I no different than corporate mercenaries who stoop to any level for money? I can mostly live with that.

Come to think of it, I can live with most things. I have said this before, and I can say it many times over. There is not much that I consider unethical or immoral, except perhaps a closed mind. But therein, as the bard would say, lies the rub. How open do you keep your mind? There is the inherent danger your brains might fall out. Given a choice I would keep my mind as tightly shut as possible. Some may say that it gets in the way of learning about the world. Whatever! It surely does not get in the way of having loads of fun.

As I write this post, I am fighting off a very strong urge to use the loo. This is a sort of daredevil game I have been occasionally playing with myself ever since I was 13. I have been unable to better my time of 8 hours that I set the very first time though. Of course, some of the more enlightened among us may conclude that anyone who plays such a game is not much older than 13. Well, thank you. The child in me is still alive.

This brings us to the subject of self-righteousness. Well, it doesn't but since this is my blog I can decide to bring anything up any which time I bloody please. I am a staunch believer in anything that has the prefix 'self' in it. This blog, after all, is nothing but an exercise in self-actualization. That it is also more of an exercise in self-deprecation is something that gets glossed over by most. A lot of my posts, hence, get read in a context that they were not intended to be read in.

That is swell, by the way. I have always been one for doing things out of context. But the awareness should not be missing. For instance, I may sometimes interject my facts on oceanic sharks in a conversation of business sharks. But each time I do that I definitely am aware that I am making a cock of myself. It is the awareness of doing things out of context that makes it pardonable to do them in the first place. If you are not aware of the context entirely, then you are better off keeping your mouth shut.

Does this mean that we can never do anything fully out of context since even when we are being out of context we are certainly aware of the context we are being out of? Possibly. That is life. Contradictions abound. We don't stop breathing just because the air we breathe is not clean enough.

Current Mood: Gloomy
Current Music: Iron Maiden - Wasted Years
It is generally believed that bloggers either have no jobs or that they have overpaid jobs which demand nothing more of their time than the cursory emailing. The belief is not misplaced.

Look at me. What do I do each day at work? Nothing really. It isn't even that my job pays me a lot of money. It is just that I have figured out the essence of the truth - the work put in should be directly commensurate with the remuneration. So I choose to make my own time at my workplace and post in these hallowed corridors.

Truth be told, this post has not been interesting thus far. And there are indications that it is not going to get any better. You might even be tempted to click on the close button in your browser's tab bar or close the browser window if you choose to live in the dark ages of tabless browsing. But that would leave you feeling hopelessly small and insignificant. It would make you into one of those people who don't have it in them to go through a lousy blog post.

That is swell, by the way, if you are me. I have always prided myself on my innate ability to shirk work of any kind, to simply give up when the mountain is too tall or the river is too deep, the latter being of special importance since I take to the water like a fish takes to air. Human beings were never meant to swim. We built ships to help us do that. Why do some of us still continue with the redundant activity and even win gold medals in the process? Of course, they do get busted for marijuana which tells us that these dope heads are as sane as amateur 'aviators' with strap-on wings.

Today not being All Fools' Day, I was almost tempted to make a non-existent post. For some reason it appears that technology does not allow us to create something that does not exist. Well, if only that applied to all the rhetoric around us. It should at least apply to the blog summary page of this site that lists post-less blogs in the 'Latest Posts' column. Apparently technology is not consistent everywhere, which is a reflection of the times we live in. Only women who do not like 'predictability' in their men can appreciate this. However, the same women would not appreciate inconsistency in the choice of their man's lovers.

Current Music: The Eagles - Tequila Sunrise
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