Skip to main content

Rain, Bank & Sabu

It rained heavily on Friday evening and the trip from office was a pain. It took more than 2 hrs when it normally takes 1. Parts of the city had plunged into darkness and that aggravated our problems.The bus driver, being the adventurous kind, tried a new route when he got frustrated with the jam and ended up with a detour that seemed to lengthen the trip by miles and minutes. Anyway, it was fun as it was a Friday.

Visiting my bank on Saturday in continuation of my previously failed attempt to procure my Netbanking PIN and debit card met with partial success. While I got the elusive debit card, the other item was not traceable. This in spite of my clear instructions not to have them couriered to my place. While the debit card had been rerouted back to the bank, the PIN must be blissfully languishing somewhere. I am giving up.

Sabu called on Saturday. He's back in Pune after having spent 7 months in the US. Lucky chap!

Comments

Vivek said…
Perennially on the wrong side of banking, aren't you?
Anonymous said…
i guess you are cracked and have to get your head examined
Deepanjan said…
People say that all the time!

But am I so intimidating that you would choose to be anonymous?

Fear not. I don't bite.

Popular posts from this blog

This is what Bertrand Russell said about religion...

Religion is based, I think, primarily and mainly upon fear. It is partly the terror of the unknown and partly, as I have said, the wish to feel that you have a kind of elder brother who will stand by you in all your troubles and disputes. ... A good world needs knowledge, kindliness, and courage; it does not need a regretful hankering after the past or a fettering of the free intelligence by the words uttered long ago by ignorant men.

The year that was

I'm wearing a rather striking shirt, one that makes me feel like a clown fooling around in a graveyard. Roving eyes latch on to me and make me too conscious of myself. Checkered in red, grey, black and maroon, I've excused myself into donning it and looking silly for two reasons. It's Friday and…more importantly, the last working day of the year. Tailored half-a-year back, I never had the courage to wear it, not until today. It's that time of the year when it's time to reflect on the events that transpired. Last year ended on the worst possible note. Dad had expired and I was numb with shock. The repercussions rippled halfway thought this year. Things were so abysmal initially that I had lost the will to live. Acrid in everything I did, I was immensely angered by time phlegmatically flowing through its cadence. It was as if Dad meant nothing to anybody. What right did people have to live the way they always had when Dad was no more? Why was much of the world still