Songs of the not-so innocent

I am a weakling. I am helpless. I am intimidated. I am worried. That I am all of these things was brought home forcefully at 5pm yesterday. I was walking towards the local supermarket and got lost in some kind of reverie while crossing the road. So, it took a second to become aware of 3 teens on a motor scooter riding towards me. Thought they were still some distance away and could have either honked or comfortably manoeuvred around, they chose to slow down and shower me with the ripest abuse I have heard in a while. I paused to let them go by but they stopped the bike next to me. None of these guys looked past their 16th birthdays. They made no pretence of wearing masks and did not seem worried that it was them going triple-seat that was a bigger issue. Instead, they continued to swear. Without saying a word, I gave them the finger and started walking. In hindsight, not my brightest moment. The gesture caused the leader to turn the bike around and ride up close to me. Fortunat...

You know what? This was going to be yet another dour post. Fortunately, around the halfway mark I realised that it was turning into the world's most sanctimonious write-up. Like Granny Weatherwax, I can't be having with that kind of thing. Instead, I'll tell you about something amazing that happened on Friday afternoon. Under normal WFH circumstances, I'd have been plonked at my desk, slurping some tea, staring at the wall or into the laptop. Instead, I was gazing out the window, slurping beer. For this, I must thank the friend who came over to shoot the breeze. Do I hear gasps and outrage about violating distancing norms? We were sitting pretty far apart. Also, while the rest of India may be limping back to normal from tomorrow, jolly old Maharashtra - Pune and Mumbai particularly - will continue this curfew till the end of the month and possibly beyond that, in drip-fed 2-week bursts, till the man on the white horse rides up for all we know. Anyway, this is all ka...

I thought about deleting the previous post. It was written while I was in the grip of an odd mood but then again, it was Sunday evening and if that doesn't put you in a strange state of mind, you just haven't been conditioned to it. Still, it's no excuse for what was a sour lemon of a piece. Yet, I did not deal it a merciful 'delete button' blow. I wanted the bitterness flowing through that disjointed bit of writing to be a reminder. Life isn't all gajar ka halwa and vanilla ice cream so why should this blog be? Now that we've got that little confessional out of the way, let me tell you that this post is also about bitterness. Of the good kind, or so I think at least because this is a paean to beer. I have absolutely no recollection of the first time I tasted any alcohol except beer. I like whisky as much as the next guy. Rum and I get along like cousins who haven't seen each other in years; an awkward, uneasy relationship, more indebted to fo...

Sunday evening thoughts I suppose one confirmation of the oft-expressed line "man is a social animal" is the reaction to physical/social distancing. I mean the proliferation of personal video calls. People we haven't thought about for years, much less willingly interacted with, are now popping up on laptop and phone screens all over the world. Many of them happen to be school or college mates. It's nice, for about 5 minutes. The plots run a predictable course. We ask how each other is doing, the situation in one's part of the country or world, how parents, spouses and kids are and throw in the usual litany about the horribleness of working from home. Then comes a pause; that visceral moment of awkwardness accompanied by dead air. In the real world, it's the point where we appreciatively reach for the beer glass. Or, in the absence of a suitable alcoholic distraction, involuntarily make circles in the ground with our toes and tunelessly hum out loud. On W...