Comeback Queen

Ok I have to get back to this before time renders me incapable of ever contributing to my blog again. I'm not even going to bother coming up with a dramatic opening sentence or a grand subject… or anything for that matter. Just proceed in small baby steps. And much like a baby whose first few utterances are warbled and incoherent, I'm counting on my cuteness and pudginess to carry me through.

What the hell… lets be reckless and go crazy. No spell checks either..

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Come to think of it my blog themes were never that grand to begin with. So lets recap… I've written posts about pimples, saris, and water shortages. Countless ones which indirectly address the question of men and one extremely acerbic one on pigeons. Yes I snuck a few in there that could qualify as "meaningful", but really who are we kidding?

And this extended hiatus? Its not like opportunities to write did not present themselves. I have in fact spent the better part of the last month doing next to nothing. In fact the quantum of the nothing that I indulge in seems to grow with every passing day. And its not like there were no worthy subjects for documentation. I mean I did take what could possibly be the last set of exams of my life… I am now (almost, one can never be too cautious) a post graduate. Life has in fact changed FOREVER!!! (caps and exclamation mark for dramatic effect… also picture me with eyes stretched to twice their size). So lack of time and fodder weren't to blame… perhaps it was just good old fashioned laziness.

But even when some things are a habit and even if they are no more unpleasant than anything that’s fairly pleasant (apologies for that sentence, I'm still warming up the engine) once they get suspended for a bit… its just really hard to pick them up again. Like my jog. It annoys me that I stopped going for one in the evenings regularly. And curiously I live next to a nice park and quite enjoy running. But I just can't get myself to adhere to the routine again. Bleh… (apologies again… but I couldn't find any other place for the mandatory minimum of one "Bleh…" per post)

A small caveat to the loyal fan base (two people at last count, both curiously referred to as "pooch" for various reasons… my lack of creativity being the main culprit… hee hee). Don't get all excited about the comeback. First, I am as prone to sink back into laziness as ever. And second, even if I do take to this regularly, there's no telling what I'll write… quality may be seriously compromised. I mean zits and irritating birds are one thing but if I'm seriously strapped for ideas I may resort to writing about… oh I don't know… IPL? Khali? Lizards? (no wait… I've done that… damn it).

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While on the subject of Khali, lets get off it as soon as possible (parumpumpush… that was a post joke drumroll for the uninitiated). I saw the great man himself on CNN IBN tonight. And there I was thinking the channel had taste… bloody capitalist sellouts…(inside joke). Just the sight of him… or the fact that so many people actually give a shit… I don't know exactly what it is that made my stomach churn. I had the strongest possible urge to vomit. And that’s that.

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The last time I wrote was the night Pooch (the original) and myself were leaving for Samirpur. That post, having been swallowed up by my blog into its deep, dark recesses, was read by all of one person. Of course it met with satisfactory reviews. But one can never be too sure when the readers are nice people who happen to be fond of you.

And funnily enough day after, I depart for Samirpur again. This alone puts a giant question mark on whether this post will be followed by another. The only computer with an internet connection is in my father's office, access to which fraught with obstacles… try the most exhausting flight of concrete steps followed by a long painful walk. But boredom has been known to make me do strange things. Trudging to the comp in question is likely to be the least of these.

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I wish free time were a marketable commodity. Now don't all you economicsy types start off on explaining the whole leisure-labour tradeoff to me. I'm serious… if there were some way in which I could trade some of the free time I have right now for the time I won't in the future… now wouldn't that be spectacular? I'm talking a grand interetemporal exchange of 'velaness'. I have gallons and gallons of leisure at hand and absolutely nothing to do with it.

And that just kills me. Eats me up completely. Irritates and annoys me. Bothers me no end. Makes me think all sorts of deranged thoughts and go completely to pieces. Write terrible blog posts… and unapologetically to boot.

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Ma left today, for Bangalore. She has left father and daughter in each other's company for a sum total of 15 days. I wonder if we'll survive. Something tells me we'll manage pretty well. My dad and I tend to get into each other's way a whole lot less. He's more resigned to the fact that I'm incapable of conversation. I think he just needs the physical presence of his children around to feel that there is 'raunaq' in the house.

Also I seem to have inherited the worst habits from him. At least all the ones that irritate my mother. The propensity to hoard mountains of unnecessary things, an aversion to all things related to domestication such as bed making, room clearing etc.

While my mum pesters, my father sort of lets me be. And sooner or later things get done… beds get made… rooms get cleared. Of course its usually later than sooner that such happy developments occur. And more often than not when things reach critical mass.

Yes, papa and I should do just fine…

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Ok I should about wrap up now. I may exhaust my treasure trove of blog-worthy topics. I can't believe I've gone and written so much. And I can actually think of some more not entirely boring things to write about. I'm not entirely pleased with tonight's outcome but its early times yet. There's one thing that strikes me every time I don't post for too long- this is always easier and more fun than I remember it to be.

Blimblop may in fact be back in business