Dettol.

The ability to write has gone. Not exactly but it feels better to tell myself that. Because that is when the result seems reasonable, work well done.

Since two weeks, I have been upto more than or maybe not. I have many an achievments to talk to myself about. I have video-graphed a college show, had 8 and a half pitchers in less than 4 visits to toto's in 7 days flat, driven half way to and fro to a farmhouse on Mumbai outskirts semi drunk, swam for half a day in a 'talaab', heard a band play stage without monitors, got an apple, claimed a place on the 'poor joke' walk of fame - read for examples etc. Not interesting, I know. This is life. And yes, I am over with my law presentation and am enjoying moments spent in movies and music, all sourced from various people. I speak to one person on a daily basis and google my way out of this unholy spectrum of pessmistic joy.

I have to upload pictures, have money to repay, have marketing phone calls to make, project deadlines harbouring, a New Delhi trip starting tomorrow (first time when I cannot wait to get home), and so many people to tick off from the list of "people I like to talk to".

Examples as told above -

Q. What do you call Las Vegas the day it comes into fashion?
A. Las Vogues.

Q. When a Mumbai person says "apun", how do you reply?
A. Intended or Unintended.

I have also accomplished consumption of a Custard Apple in one hour, semi stuck to one place, eating it for all its worth, a state of brilliance. I have written poetry this past week. I have seen rain and the sun but I am not the only one.

I got to go home. I have to update this space before I realize in 2011 that I do not remember anything of what happened.

Fuck off.