Skip to main content

Guru Calls

Gurdas called up late night, masquerading as a telecaller from HSBC! The tone was too funny and I realized someone was playing a prank...and hung up. The bugger called up again and asked me for a wild guess. I refused and coaxed for his identity, which was subsequently revealed. What a relief!

I'm entrusted with compiling and sending him an Mp3 CD to initiate him into finer music from the West. Surd has been smitten by an SOS I had sent to our school mailing-list, asking for help in downloading 2 Randolph tracks. I'm yet to receive any.

Guru lamented the plummeting quality of my blog, thus seconding what many others have already expressed. I agree. I wish I could be in the right frame of mind to upgrade the quality. I guess that'll have to wait awhile.

Comments

Anonymous said…
The CD got delivered today.Thanks so much!
Will post a feedback on the contents later.

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