It's a charming morning. The October sun is shamelessly flamboyant and the birds are at their chirpy best. Is it mating season? A little pigeon comes by my pseudo balcony to wish me good morning. He seems well fed. By the way, how does one determine a pigeon's gender?
And guess what! The mugful of hot water and lemon creates magic on the pot. The yellow background on my blog makes me nostalgic about my lil' trip to wonderland. And ironically it's titled Sticky Notes. For once it wasn't :)
Aah, What a good morning!, I say. What joy!, I say.
And then mom comes. Grim-faced. Tells me to rush to our living room. Damn. The man has fucked my morning, again! His hypnotised followers justifying the dastardly acts. The powers that be turning a blind eye to their very conscience. I know a fucked up morning is a trivial inconvenience.
That man has fucked up people's lives.
“When liberty comes with hands dabbled in blood it is hard to shake hands with her.” - Oscar Wilde
Aarambh Hai Prachand
2 years ago
On first reading this, I felt slightly uneasy because I completely, most clearly understood para #2. On afterthought, this feels like the blog of the Anuj Gosalia I know a tad better. :)
ReplyDeleteWoo to the hoo for Sticky Notes! (The fact that your blog is named after a lovely item of stationery brings prejudice :D) Look at your blog, look how it shines for you & everything you do.. & it is all yellow..!
Damn the bugger. Even those of us who resolve not to be inconvenienced by him are paralysed in situations we have come across all too often. Its a shame we elevate some people to such heights that they begin to matter so much to our society. One of the reasons India will hardly ever change. We are like this only.
Cheers. Keedas. Peace.