Have you ever felt like God has dosed off and instead, Murphy is watching over you? If not then please know… IT HAPPENS!!
I had a lousy yesterday. The day opened with a shrieking alarm that reminded me of a Monday morning and still, it was a Saturday. I had animation classes (the ones in 3D if you recall from a frustrated post a while ago). As I drag my oversized body to college I fear getting late, coupled with a statement that rings in the heads of all who are zombie-fied at unholy hours; “screw the class, who care, BED, PILLOW, SLEEEEEEEEP!” All ok in the class but then starts the ordeal of some godforsaken term called ‘brainstorming’. Another project, another group effort where group works to the extent of opinionating and balks right there. Then the onus falls onto three or four self-actualized individuals who take the driver’s seat to actually execute this plan. Needless to say this post is filled with self-pity and empathy for all ‘drivers’. So the group goes back home and I get all lazy and not in a position to work, and then my guilt machine goes off. By now I want a drink. “TAVERN… OH GOD, TAVERN!”
After inane conversations with Van and constant persuasion, the plan to go to the ‘temple’ for some ‘prashaad’, is formalized and we also have a Sachin and an Ankit to go along with. We meet at 11 and set out to relax our minds down. I picture all my pressures being washed away by a sea of beer. The customary homage of white ‘incense’ was purchased en route and we were encountered by various temptations to just sit around at all other places except for Tavern. We some how discarded all options and headed where we were supposed to. Enter the corridor of Farias and I get a call from a group member. Harrowed and disturbed, she was resorting to the final option of giving in and dying for the night. All was justified and I felt bad that I had an option to get out and these others did not. Maybe some chose not to get out and have a drink but I was the only one running away. The rest are standing in the lobby waiting for me to hang up and walk in. I signal them to carry on and I shall join later and Van shouts “it’s shut you ass!”… I, in a complete state of awe and disgust, continue talking to a bothered friend. Once I hang up they say one word that breaks all dreams into pieces smaller than sand grains… “DRY-DAY”
After a short trip to Symphony (regular panwala) we drop Sachin to his abode and head straight off to the sea face (Worli). The remainder of the incense are lit and puffed with joy and tea and coffee consumed in small quantities add to the beauty of the night. And ofcorse some there are some biscuit packets lying in the car that served as ‘bites’ with our ‘drinks’. The sea roars, the moon hides, a quaint plane flies past at a great height and an even more inane conversation about the plane follows it. Bitching about life and its definition of ‘irony personified’ continues into another smoke filled night-sky. Deep sighs of remorse and acceptance of a downfall of hope in the Saturday evening of much too many desires are breathed and all head back to respective residences to sleep off the regretful night. I have no idea why, but it was the first time I was that pissed with fate. Sorry, but it’s not done. I ask for beer and they gave me coffee…
God should party more often on Saturday nights and let Murphy take a break. Honestly.
I had a lousy yesterday. The day opened with a shrieking alarm that reminded me of a Monday morning and still, it was a Saturday. I had animation classes (the ones in 3D if you recall from a frustrated post a while ago). As I drag my oversized body to college I fear getting late, coupled with a statement that rings in the heads of all who are zombie-fied at unholy hours; “screw the class, who care, BED, PILLOW, SLEEEEEEEEP!” All ok in the class but then starts the ordeal of some godforsaken term called ‘brainstorming’. Another project, another group effort where group works to the extent of opinionating and balks right there. Then the onus falls onto three or four self-actualized individuals who take the driver’s seat to actually execute this plan. Needless to say this post is filled with self-pity and empathy for all ‘drivers’. So the group goes back home and I get all lazy and not in a position to work, and then my guilt machine goes off. By now I want a drink. “TAVERN… OH GOD, TAVERN!”
After inane conversations with Van and constant persuasion, the plan to go to the ‘temple’ for some ‘prashaad’, is formalized and we also have a Sachin and an Ankit to go along with. We meet at 11 and set out to relax our minds down. I picture all my pressures being washed away by a sea of beer. The customary homage of white ‘incense’ was purchased en route and we were encountered by various temptations to just sit around at all other places except for Tavern. We some how discarded all options and headed where we were supposed to. Enter the corridor of Farias and I get a call from a group member. Harrowed and disturbed, she was resorting to the final option of giving in and dying for the night. All was justified and I felt bad that I had an option to get out and these others did not. Maybe some chose not to get out and have a drink but I was the only one running away. The rest are standing in the lobby waiting for me to hang up and walk in. I signal them to carry on and I shall join later and Van shouts “it’s shut you ass!”… I, in a complete state of awe and disgust, continue talking to a bothered friend. Once I hang up they say one word that breaks all dreams into pieces smaller than sand grains… “DRY-DAY”
After a short trip to Symphony (regular panwala) we drop Sachin to his abode and head straight off to the sea face (Worli). The remainder of the incense are lit and puffed with joy and tea and coffee consumed in small quantities add to the beauty of the night. And ofcorse some there are some biscuit packets lying in the car that served as ‘bites’ with our ‘drinks’. The sea roars, the moon hides, a quaint plane flies past at a great height and an even more inane conversation about the plane follows it. Bitching about life and its definition of ‘irony personified’ continues into another smoke filled night-sky. Deep sighs of remorse and acceptance of a downfall of hope in the Saturday evening of much too many desires are breathed and all head back to respective residences to sleep off the regretful night. I have no idea why, but it was the first time I was that pissed with fate. Sorry, but it’s not done. I ask for beer and they gave me coffee…
God should party more often on Saturday nights and let Murphy take a break. Honestly.
3 comments:
from one such self-actualized driver to another...arrrgh, i know what you mean. it drives me round the bend! :) good work rakshit, quite a blog you have here!
and, i had forgotten to mention earlier. do link me up on your blog and on the xic group. cheers!
thanks so much! you know what you've got to do for me to return the favour! and darling, it's spelt meenakshi :)or simply change it to divya chandramouli...
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