Good Times Ahead

Life’s no bed of roses, ‘tis fulla thorns it seems. But I smell real lovely, rich roses for I’ve had, it seems, my share of thorns of the season. Things went sour with a few people just as they year started, making a Grand Canyon larger than Mallika’s cleavage. God only knows if it will ever be filled and flattened into the Deccan plateau (that reminds me, our 3^rd Std. Geography teacher used to call it ‘pleetyu”!!!!)

Then there was the saga of a broken heart and the smelly farts. No more of that. Gee, that was bad. I am out and am looking back at it and smiling, gleefully. Damn! (Ahem, Hari, go on).

And then God decides that I should be the official witness of break-ups that happen. He wants me to sign official documents as witness for both parties- the guy’s side and the girl’s side.

Then there was this sick ordeal of not passing my allowed to keep terms papers. Maybe I surface or maybe I take some scuba-diving lessons while others think I’ve drowned. Freddie, tell you what? ‘We are the champions’ rocks buddy!

Nothing seemed right. Everything I touched seemed to go wrong. Like the reversed luck in Just My Luck- an anti-Midas touch. Super mood swings, broken windowpanes, flying remote controls and heated tiffs later, it looks like I am entitled to experience good things too!

JAM magazine decided to send me the tee that I so rightfully deserve and the Ed asked if I would like to work with them! I can’t believe it man. Me getting a job offer? Wait, too much for me to digest together. (Hajmola-selling man with white French beard comes in and says, “Pachpan saal maine Hajmola ki madat se guzaare.”)

A Times weekend supplement needed someone urgently to translate stories to English. Thanks to a dear friend, I fit right in. I ghostwrite for reporters and get paid for the service. Good enough, ain’t it?

And then I go to this swanky office of a relatively new newspaper with a name that somewhat matches with the Defence Academy and the nucleic acid inside all of us. I do a copy test there, maybe I’ll surface, maybe I’ll not, and they are yet to tell me. They have asked me to send them a mail quoting my expectation of salary! Wow, and I thought I was joining as a non-paid trainee who would have to run office errands, juggle coffees, attend phone calls and take messages amidst proof-reading stories and making pages. Well, may be I would, but what the heck? I am getting a job, my very first job!

And then my horoscope (I used to call it horrorscope) today says something like “love is in the air”. Ahem. Blush. Naah. Crap.

Do I see good times ahead? Did I tell you I got a new watch yesterday? Time. Time.

I think now I know what I am going to do on my birthday, provided I make some cash by then. [;)]

Hari ko gussa kyun aata hai?

I am a cold psycopath that sips hot coffee. I stare at people for long lengths of time and tell them I am short-sighted.and was only trying to focus. Yesterday I broke a window pane with my bare hands and today I made a taped collage out ofi t. today again I flung the remote control at the wall that sent the batteries with low charge flying high into the air before they hit the floor.



I feel undercurrents of anger pangs crawling creepily over me too often now. I feel this and then I throw something around- not intending to break or disfigure. The next second I am thinking why it happened. I am not among the ones to lose my cool that soon. I usually close my eyes and breathe it down, would rater have a halo on my head than horns and a wiry tail extending my coccyx!