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Showing posts from February, 2014


Okay, so that last post had a mild "Itna sannata kyun hai bhai?" feel, which I've been encouraged to eschew in favour of a totally believable, "C'mon Barbie, let's go party!" theme.

So I'll resume normal services and give some updates from the Gulag, also known in the local idiom as the place I work. The greenhorn putting in his papers was basically the signal for opening the doors to the Augean stables. Within a week, his senior on the account put in her papers citing a shattering of her confidence (her actual words). The girl hired to replace greenhorn number one experienced 2 days - Thursday & Friday, before failing to show up on the subsequent Monday, thereby giving the management a well-manicured middle finger.

Meanwhile, another client servicing cretin, who fancied perhaps that he'd signed up for a pleasure cruise, lasted exactly 1 day. I have a vague recollection of him pompously surveying the chaos engulfing this place on the day he…

Just Looking

Sometimes I will do this. 
Visit the blogs of people who are not on my reading list. 
Type out the addresses from memory and hit 'Return'. 
Wait. Knowing what I certainly know, yet I yearn.
Maybe I'll be proved right. That they don't write.
Or maybe, that they have.
When I see that last post. 
And find that it's a 3 year old ghost.
I become wistful. With a dash of melancholic, for taste.
Wondering why they stopped. Making judgements of lost potential in haste.
Could it be that they've moved to another ground?
To something like Whatsapp; more convenient, less profound?  
Perhaps staid routine claims another writer. 
Whose ink is fading, as the page grows whiter. 
I'll admit, the thought makes me sad. 
Though I know there's no use feeling bad. 
So, I'm going to fall back on that old standby; hope.
Visit old posts, reminisce and cope.
Wonder if the authors will ever rediscover the fun. 
And write again, even if it is a poem as basic as this one.
Song for the moment: