Skip to main content

I'm attractive...

...though not in the conventional sense. The hour-long bus jaunt back home is a period when most techies feel overwhelmingly sleepy after a hard day' s work. Many would slip into a deep slumber had it not been for the pothole-ridden roads of Bangalore. My next-seater (keeps changing) joins the tribe of wannabe slumbering travelers...and invariably begins to slump towards yours truly. And since I always take the window seat, my face is stuck between the window pane and a wobbling head. I silently suffer in my entrapment with nowhere to turn. Why can't the bugger tilt towards the aisle?
Today's culprit was especially intimate. I could feel the radiant heat from his head!

Comments

Anonymous said…
or...you could consider taking the aisle seat next time!
Deepanjan said…
But I love the window seat!
Vivek said…
So do I. Thankfully, my bus is a 2x1 & no prizes for guessing which seat I prefer.
Deepanjan said…
The best of both the worlds!
Sebastian said…
http://nachowski.blogspot.com/2005/12/pune-on-google-earth.html
Deepanjan said…
Sabu, thanks for the link. I just loved the Fergusson snap!

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