Skip to main content

Fading Freedom

Ah, the joys of solitary living are short lived! You can be as dirty as you want, touch yourself wherever you want, eat as much as you want, sleep as much as you want and surf as much as you want. I now understand why a man is in a sullen mood when his wife returns after being at her parents'! I've thoroughly enjoyed the extra space created by Santosh's absence during the past month, but it's now time for me to relinquish all the fun. Not that Santosh has been guilty of robbing me of my space...still, there's an innate sense of detachment and unaccountability when you have the entire place to yourself.

It was during my trudge back home after office that I decided to celebrate my new found (& soon to be lost) expertise in cooking anda bhurji (the reign was a monopoly), tired though I was after yet another nearly 12-hrs of work. Bought a loaf of bread, was overcharged by a Rupee. Bought onions, was overcharged by a Rupee. I was too exhausted and too famished to protest. Reached home, put on the PC, launched some streaming audio, completed some chores and began peeling, washing, chopping and frying the onions. Added chili powder & some arbitrary spice, eggs, chili & spice again, swirled them vigorously...and I was all set to dig in!

Began surfing and chatting with Sreya while simultaneously having dinner. Our conversations generally last upto the wee hours of the morning...unless otherwise aborted by a disconnection of the Net, which is quickly followed by an exchange of apologies via SMS. And this is exactly what happened tonight!
------------------------------(next day)-------------------
Anyway, spent some time watching Just for Laughs on YouTube. The videos are absolutely hilarious and I've grown completely addicted to them. Ironed some clothes and went off to sleep.

Comments

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 ...

The sting operation

There was a guy in school named Subroto Giri, who, we all agreed, was the world's most accident prone person. All the world's ill luck would strike him first before affecting others. We sympathized with him, though we couldn't help occasionally taking a dig at the poor guy. I guess Murphy's law of averages has finally caught up with me. It's now my turn to be the butt of the jokes of my acquaintances. I went to HDFC Bank to sort 2 issues. One was sorted, the other had to wait. It was during my trudge back to my office that I made the mistake of putting my left hand into a hip pocket. Unknown to me, a bee had conveniently lodged itself there. No sooner had I made the intrusion than the bee stung me! My thumb, to be more precise. It felt like my thumb had been amputated. I did the obvious and withdrew my hand with a jerk, not knowing what had hit me. Getting a semblance of what had just happened, I realized to my consternation that the sucker could still be 'in...