Thursday, May 24, 2012

frequent discharge

Found myself a mess last evening. The Y could read it on my face. The day had been bland, nothing tragic, but sometimes even the small things that push the bland deeper towards inclusion into the church of bland-hood manage to make a dent. In a way, retrospecting about a featureless day is a causal effect that itself breaks the chain of nothings. I was understandably upset, for a myriad reasons - my sleep was of yet incomplete, the G had canceled his nightover, there was still no London Dairy ice-cream that the Y had promised, the upcoming roadtrip seemed in jeopardy, I still qualified as a homeless, I was flirting with the prospect of near-future unemployment, and there was a state of unhealth brewing back home that seeded some confused expectations. The worst part is, I still could not find the energy to escape it all.

To escape for a brief while, though, we drove out to HKV, to try out this resto, Lah, on Kapil's recommendation. This would make it my second visit to HKV, the first one was in August of last yr to introduce everybody before our Hamta Pass trek - sadly, only three of us had turned up. Regardless of the times one has visited, HKV is noteworthy, which makes me wonder why my circles have never thought of exploring this part of Delhi; or maybe I was never invited. Old monuments, dime-a-dozen-eateries, narrow alleyways, short skirts, butch lesbians, spunky foreigners, some unexpected decor, is what this un-villagey village came across as. After a confused dinner at Lah (the lamb and pork in the noodle bowl both tasted like chicken, and it was first time I had Paranthas with a Malay gravy dish), we returned, with no idling about (on the pretext of digestion).
We did take a detour looking for the elusive London Dairy, that was still on the Y's promise list, at 11PM in the night. Along the route, seeing long lines at the petrol stations, we could tell a price hike was in effect the next day; it also makes me ask myself WHY my darling bike is gathering dust upstairs, pedal power surely FTW.

This wisdom from Jackal, the antagonist of *Far Cry 2* buzzes in the head: "A living being seeks above all else to discharge its strength. Life itself is will to power. Nothing else matters." Maybe I will find my ways, before the ceaseless time or the dope society get the better of me.


"The target's presence in the state continues to be a distabalising influence. He is largely responsible for the recent influx of weapons in the country, in clear violation of the Joint Signatory Framework. His reputation as a dangerous arms dealer... is well deserved." *points gun at himself* "Orders are to terminate." Well that didn't work out the way they planned- I'm still breathing and you're the one with malaria. You can tell them you tried. But that means fuck-all, doesn't it? You're fired, you know it and so do I. You had your shot but now it's over. And since men like you only work for money, you're no longer my problem. You'll have to find something else to do with yourself now. What your old clients don't seem to understand is that they can't kill me. Do you understand what I'm saying? Nobody kills me. NOBODY. *embeds machete into the wall next to the players head* I'm the one who decides who lives and who dies, me! You know, there's a book I read a long time ago. I still think about it every day. It helps me understand life out here. The book talks about men- what motivates them. It's simple, really. "A living being seeks above all else to discharge its strength. Life itself is will to power. Nothing else matters." *tosses the gun onto the table* So long.
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