Sunday, July 22, 2012

Wknd Rprt

I'd deferred a lot to this Saturday and to Noida. So when I finally was there, I made it a day-long affair and attached little second thought to material and social inklings. I've already thrice mentioned the struggle finding a new writing surface, which won't find another mention; but I mention it here for the fact that I visited the GIP exclusively for the Staples bookstore, and that the search entangled me into buying other stuff.

It being Caturday, my morn was uncharacteristically active - sprinted along the Shanti Path, in one of my faster runs ever and returned looking like a soaked sponge with all the sweat. But then things settled better with the theme of "lazy", and a long sleep followed, one that overrode my intentions of setting out for N by 10. Did leave for N around 1400, spent a coupla' hours in the mall, another at Chandu's, and another at Rajesh's. Did get most of what I had set out for. D made great Poha that I wished I could take a whole rucksack-ful back. Bumped into Surjeet as well. Was strange seeing myself skipping the fun of Sunday morn's Manger trail for some comeback tennis with Yogi (ps: which, too, didn't happen). Talking about deviate aspirations, I managed to get hands on some research on "Cartesian grid method for viscous incompressible flows with complex immersed boundaries", one that I even shared with Adi's friend later - I returned home with plenty in this regard. Scored this at 30% discount too, yeah.

T'was late by the time I returned, albeit the late hour was rewarding with the thin traffic that made the return leg quicker. Sometime during midnight, Y returned from Vienna. But these returns aren't so eagerly awaited, anymore, as he's become frugal with purchases, citing reality (which surprisingly didn't exist when he was living on debt). To top that, he wasn't keen on the Tennis either, so we didn't go in the morn and I was a bit annoyed at the dual flop show.

Started watching something oddly gripping by end of the day, which I continue into Sunday as sleep took over. It was Werner Herzog's Fata Morgana, a 1970s movie which is kinda hard to summarise. The movie turned to be the only discovery (and the only redeeming act) from Sunday. Admittedly, on Friday, I was bugged out at the opening sequence of 10 minutes of planes landing on an airstrip, and couldn't see no reasons to continue watching. Now I have some memorable moments settled into my head, and a particularly exemplary one - at 15:00 when clarinet from TEB's Ghetto Raga becomes pronounced, to complement a long sequence of moving/aerial shots that pick the viewer and transports them into a beautiful world.

Sunday also for the hour at the pool, for the Red Wine complemented with Chicken Tandoori, and the exit notice served before the onset of night sleep.

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