The day started off with me almost suffering cerebral damage; a high-velocity projectile missed my head by a margin: as it was, I was in the process of making myself a cup of cappuccino, and while the milk was on the stove I had the urge to crane my neck out of the balcony and smell the rewarding morning air. The balcony is like every other in this neighbourhood - a grilled defense, for the fear of theft; mine has a window of about 5x4 ft. And my head is a bounding box of about 1.2x1 sq ft. No sooner had I approached the balcony, in the process of a deep breath, that something whizzed past my left ear, hit the balcony grill with a twang and deflect back outside. After the momentary stun, I looked down to find the newspaper boy in his second attempt to deliver the papers through the little opening in my balcony. I was lucky that his initial strike missed today.
Received a call from an anonymous number in the morning. The voice on the other side seemed to affirm our familiarity, so I went along with the conversation. It ended with us deciding to meet up in the evening; I had no idea of who it was; "some friend" was what I added him as on my cellphone. I was severely receptive to the fact that it could be anybody and yet be received with no greater or lower enthusiasm. Anonymity is a great equaliser. "some friend" called again later to confirm his arrival at the Metro Station. Last efforts to remember that voice failed. I approached with guilt hanging over my head - what if I don't recognize him? It was a pleasant surprise to find Aditya waiting...a good year and a quarter after which we were seeing each other. A very long year and a quarter, I was amused at how we could stay so ignorant over our long-due meeting. I'd like that to happen again, ANYBODY - even those with whom I'm mutually unacquainted.
Did something goofy today; it wasn't cheap; but I'd decided not to let money spoil the kick; then spent my next few hours frequently going over the thought if it was worth it. And then got a call from a guy who wanted to give me money!
The task executed was something whose very point lies in being pointless, but with the most
Then the call from my ex-employer/client in the afternoon - He's a pilot, so not among the ones I'd expect being affected from the recent Kingfisher-Jet deal and its aftermath. But as it turns out: he was trained on the 440 very recently and now they've decided to do away with 440s (or something close) and fly only with 420s. So he's quite irritated over that fact - He was in town, and wanted to strike off the pending payments. That was surprising; the money itself knocking back. A few more of such occasions and I'll be drawing maxims.
While at home - exhausted - for that pit stop, I turned the fan to the max. Seconds later I realised that my room was lacking that feature! There was a hole where the fan should've been, like it was sucked up by somebody on the roof. The landlady had taken it away for repairs, I'd asked her earlier. She'd been to my room in my absence and had leisurely run her eyes around every detail, and had found it unkempt, citing the spider webs for example. I politely replied "Frankly, I like them, won't like to disturb their active season of aphid-snacking." She was bewildered and gave me a short stare, followed by that understanding nod which is only a conditioned response that people use to their defense when they conversate with the least botheration; mere noise from the other person would pacify them. Reminds me of the scene in "The Darjeeling Limited" where Adrien Brody, holding a baby, is sitting alongside a villager, both of whom seem to making a conversation.
A day of excess in cycling.
A day of excess in walking.
A day of excess in eating.
A day of excess in spending (and withdrawls).
A day of excess in socialising.
Also learned a process and a fact.
At least something real and possible to write about.
Take that, previous blogpost.
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