Skip to main content

Gurdas comes calling

Gurdas had sent us a mail a few weeks back informing that he would visit Bangalore soon. I was so caught up with the wreck that is my life that doing a follow up completely slipped my mind.

So Gurdas (fondly called Gorudas-a slave of cows!) called me up tonight and it was only then that I recalled receiving the email. Caught up with a lot of things. Rahul is in TISCO, Jamshedpur. Amarendra was last spotted somewhere in Jamshedpur. Shukanto-the biggest mystery of our batch-has apparently accomplished something commendable, although Gurdas couldn't really recall what it was. I just wish these people would take sufficient initiatives to be in touch with us. Living in the social fringe hardly helps. I should know!

I informed Gurdas about Bads being in the US, slated to come to India soon for a month-long stint after which he'll be back there. Gurdas enquired if he's coming to India just for laundry! We had a laugh.

Gurdas leaves for Mumbai tonight and I so wish we could schedule a meeting. Well, maybe next time. Nice to catch up with an old buddy!

Addendum: It seems the surdar is incapable of thinking of any place in Bangalore South of Koramangala! So when I said that JP Nagar was further South than what his limited imagination would let him think (Koramangala, of course!), he joked that I was probably in Kanyakumari!

Comments

Anonymous said…
Laundry Eh?! One wonders if u guys ever wash them too.. For all you know ..u never do.

And yeah..Koramangla is the last frontier of civilized world...anything south is just Farmland..
Deepanjan said…
Anything south of Koramangala is farmland.
Anything north of Koramangala is farmland.
Anything east of Koramangala is farmland.
Anything west of Koramangala is farmland.

Conclusion: Koramangala is the heartland of Bangalorean farmland.

Popular posts from this blog

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

Post Christmas

The workday didn't have the sweetest of starts. After being made to wait for almost half-an-hour for breakfast in the cafeteria, I was told only when I enquired that there could be no omelette since the heater wasn't working properly. I lost my temper and aired my annoyance not because the heater was out-of-order but because I was needlessly made to wait for something that was just not about to happen. The onus was on them to intimate me and they failed to own up to their responsibility. I find this attitude very irksome. Anyway, the rest of the day was smooth sailing except for a minor glitch that had to be rectified just when I was about to head for lunch. The bay was mostly deserted since most of my colleagues had volunteered for a training. I'm self-taught...thus my being an exception to the mass exodus! Nilotpal is on a fortnight-long leave and I missed him dearly today.
I'm learning the hard way not to trust anyone. Even the one you revere the most may be scheming your downfall. By no stretch of imagination may this seem logical, but who said imagination is limitless?