Remember, remember, the 2nd of october?

T writes good epilogues, doesn't he? Now that's a specialization. Kudos. Reminds me of the movie Closer and hence, the Blower's daughter. Also reminds me of an epitaph - 4th wing, 2003-2007. Later replaced by 4th wing, forever. The senti bastard D.

R,T and I were having lunch - a rather extended session at that. Multiple desserts and new-fangled pastas. At the end of it, at the rather uncomfortable moment of tipping, that too apart from being taxed 12% for some value addition which resembles the value allusion of consultants, we were left with a 50, 20 and 10 as change to the cash tendered. I reach for the 50 and the 10 as T looks at me, squinting one eye, with a capitalist look on his face (no no, don't ask), and says, "H, that 50 looks old. Don't take it. Just take the 20, that looks reasonably new. " And I accede. (Later on, the 20 is lost as another dessert's tips - the life of an unwanted currency note must be fascinating...)

Magic for beginners and Endless night. Put fundaes. Rather difficult to crack. Perhaps a clue. Where T would be like a young child with a sweet-tooth in a candy shop. Nothing sensational. J hasn't changed much from college. Still looks unkempt. He talked of almost being stabbed as he left office on his bike the previous week. Stabbed. Certain events in another's life can help bring perspective to yours. Unconnected as you were to those events. A young man and a life lost early. Human beings are not meant to survive, merely to exist.

"Its not about happiness silly... its about contentment. Atleast that's what I think. If you try to solve for such an optimistic target, you will neither be happy nor content." Makes sense. I suppose. Later, green peppermint. Fancy-shmancy. "You can't change yourself and it's not worth it." Fair enough. There is magic in the world. She's proof enough.

Mahatma Gandhi lived a long and fruitful life. Filled with myriad colourful incidents. All of which are now talked of in a legendary sense. And positive light. To rise above mediocrity. I pity the soul. Souls. Mediocrity is bathed in such negative hues. Much like ignorance and indolence. Yes, misconceptions. All of them. Mediocrity, by choice, is snug comfort, ignorance, when premeditated, is bliss and indolence, without denying one's responsibilities, is nonpareil delight. And yes, I know.

Most national holidays are dry days, the concept of which baffles me no end. There exists our wonderful democracy which believes that alcohol corrupts the gullible individual and hence celebrates days of patriotic importance in ostensible sobreity but is otherwise lax and even prodigal (no no no, nothing to do with prodigies - sheesh) in disbursing spirited consumables on all other days. Why?

Sometimes I wonder very meaningless things. Like why are there 7 days in a week? No no, I'm not asking you for the random trivia like Augustus Caesar's favourite number was 7. I mean, what if there were more days in the week - would that be better or worse? What if the weekday:weekend ratio was different? What if the weekday:weekend distribution was 2,1,3,1 instead of 5,2. Just meaningless what ifs which might one day fuel my big idea. My big idea with which I would earn lots of money and not need to work any more. Atleast the latter. Like early retirement. Pearls of young childish wisdom.

October 2 was interesting.

Connect,

H