Category Archives: Stories

Rains of Fire (Brighthelmstone chronicles part 2)

<<Circa  January 2014>>

The Southern English sea winds create an extreme disparity that tests the bodily adaptation of a person. Especially when you run, generate a body heat and the sweat gets blown away  in the wind almost immediately creating a chill that would give you …well,  an extremely brittle sensation.

Climate is in the range of 5 to 10 degrees Celsius but the sea winds hits sub zero and with high speeds enough to make a not-so-heavy person fly along with the gale

Well ! Getting to the point.  When you try running by the beach of Brighton in such weather the body needs to rapidly shift between the heat generated by the intensity of the workout,  the 5 to 10 degree C temperature and the fluctuating sub zero winds. Not really a pleasant phsiological task. You pretty much freeze after running hard from the Brighton pier to Shoreham-by-the-sea and back.  (an overall distance of perhaps 12 miles/ 19.3 kilometres)

Then,  I came back to the hotel room from this fitness-obsessed misadventure. Almost immediately dropped my clothes and rushed into the hot shower (to get some relief from the apparent frostbite) . Relief I did get! Or perhaps it was some kind of over-relief. Where the weight of the temperature-fluctuation due to scalding water on the freezing body created not relief, but a “Rain of fire” .

images

It was a very unique feeling, since I had almost gone numb in the body, I could only feel a burning sensation minus the pain. Slowly , I felt pain (indicating the parts were getting less numb) and then releif at the gradual bodily temperature adjustment. Very much like a reverse prcess of Tempering

 

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Brighthelmstone chronicles

    Preface

It is pretty damp to see how a pattern oriented work life changes the way you look, prioritize and do things
work

For instance, my blogging which has over the years been a pride of mine (not that I got an award or monetary reward for the content in it, but speaking more from a posterity/ cherishing memories’ and thoughts’ point of view) Not that I had no stuff to write oF. I did. But just that I postponed the documenting (notice how I instinctively use “documenting” and not “writing” … work-lingo by-product! Phew ! ) Or alternatively, just thought of it as a pastime that is nice to have, but can be back-seated in the shadow of better things to do! (Not that I have really done anything better though .. )

Anyway sorry for digressing like an aimless dilettante. The idea here is to talk about my Business trip to Brighton in the United Kingdom (UK)

Pier

    Brighthelmstone

If the wonderful ‘reader’ (this can be anyone or just me in the distant future … hmm I am thinking Donnie Darko ish stuff now! Before I digress again, I will park that thought and get back to Brighton) put in so much dedicated effort 😛 to actually look it up, you would know that the ancient name of this touristic city is “Brighthelmstone” which I guess, justifies the title, haha ! I just find this name more conducive to sometimes-megalomanics like myself ! (Dont blame me for this! Grew up on RajniKanth )

    I have been here for quite some time

I have been here before in September and October but owing to the same reason as mentioned in the Preface above, I didn’t muster enough enthusiasm to document this (Oh no! Not “Document” again ) . Also, owing to the whole micro-blogging revolution, my updates have been going very well with Twitter and Facebook, but just not with the self-fulfilling openness of writing in your own blog

    Weather

It can get cold here.The Southern English climate is, as anyone might have already guessed, unpredictable. When it rains during a climatic temperature of 3 degree Celcius , it feels like “icicles shot at your face with a machine gun” (Ok! This catchphrase is now officially my most often-used metaphor this month!)

Ice_rain<

I was a person who kept complaining about the heat in India and was not used to temperatures less than 16 degree Celcius (Hyderabadi winter! Yes! Thats all it goes down to) Living here for a brief period has given me a life-long enlightening feeling about seeing the Sun. So when there is Sun here this time of the year, the feeling is of relief, pure and pristine. But of course it does not last long and folks go back to weather-induced-depressive-moods again.

sun and cold

But then of course, humankind has always found means to fight negative mindsets. The highly tentaive depressive mood is perhaps what drives people here to “get a life” rather than give in to “hibernating under your blankets and eating lots of cheese” . People make it a point to socialize more and also do more sport. Party and Get exercise! Now thats what I am talking about … (now by exercise, I dont mean “go all Arnold”, even walking on a Sunday instead of taking a taxi is exercise by my book)

    London

Now talking of weather reminds me of one thing …

    my ordeal on November 10th

! I wanted to go catch the Manchester-Arsenal match ( Dont be impressed! I didnt get tickets, plan was to see it with a friend of mine in a sports bar near London Bridge ) But then North-bound trains from Brighton to London were down due to bad weather . Boy ! Was I peeved …

London

Anyway, I have been to London in October though. Thanks to these two (Akshay and Manasi) I had a fantastic time. God bless them!

AkMa

Hey did I say God ! Its a coincidence ( would not like calling it Providence ) that I saw the fantastic movie “Rush” in England (considering its got a British central character … played by Chris Hemsworth ..yeah! Thor goes F1-driving!)

    The book

Talking of providence reminds me of this book

book

In times like these ( read, all outdoor plans failing due to bad weather …yes! the November 10th ordeal again ! ) , I have been reading this book. The book obviously champions atheism . As tempted to speak of it as I am now, I will save this for another day. Hmm.. do I hear the faithful taking out their chain-saws to judge that post? 🙂 Yes yes ! The time will come …

    Food

Now lets talk of food ..not unlike the rest of England, there is the famous “fish and chips” which I somehow am not a big fan of

fish&chips

I did try it once but was not particularly thrilled about it. Its just fried fish and a bad version of quickly fried potato. Perhaps its notoriety comes from the fact that it is warm fried food that can be instantly made. A sort of quick-fix and filling solution to a hungry stomach in cold English weather ..hmm … fair enough !

Talking of food takes me back to the November 10th ordeal. I had to compensate myself for the frustration of missing hanging out with pals because of no trains due to rains. I got myself a mammoth treat to please myself. Well ! At least one good thing is that you can get everything in a TESCO store from canned alcohol to quick-fix-takeaway food (yes even hot food) By the way, unless you do some sort of responsible recreational calorie burning, do not try this level of junk-snacking at home 😛

food<

(to be continued … )

The Teacher’s day Rhapsody

FOREWORD: Extracts from a fictitious letter to a non-fictitious P.T teacher (Instructor- Physical education) whose non-fictitious story has been blown up to semi-fictitious extravaganza

STATUTORY WARNING: Neither for the faint hearted nor the rigidly moral

x-x-x-x-x–x-x-x-x

Dear ‘My fav P.T.Teacher’,

Hello sir! In case you are wondering who this little chump (as you used to call your victims, I mean, students) is …I was your student from Niraj Public School, Ameerpet, Hyderabad in 1999 J

You have always been the eccentric one among all my teachers. You took great pleasure in making us kneel down for not doing jumping jacks properly. And how would the then thunder thighed, mammoth waisted, sumo bellied, chubby little me gain the stamina or the buoyancy to do a jumping jack, that too with jumping! My wonderful ma (God bless her! She was my real teacher, unlike some of the power-hungry, kid-torturing, flattery-loving, wannabe-capitalistic fuck-ups & losers who masquerade as teachers in wealthy private schools) used to make me delicious pesarattu for breakfast every Friday, the same day of the week which started off with your sadistic P.T.session! Sadly, after your P.T.sessions, I always ended up puking the slimy sickly mutilated mutated version of a once delicious pesarattu. Often have I harbored the fear that I would die asphyxiated in my own vomit, ala Led Zeppelin’s John Bonham

I mean, I had no problem with the constructive intentions behind PT. sessions, but it is not cool to megalomaniacally metamorphosize them into your own fat boy victimizing, bum-whacking, under-the-hot-sun-kneel-down-punishmenting episode of grandomaniacal torture.  I have a theory that perhaps, in your later years, after you left our school, you became a Catholic priest, joined the Vatican pedophile community and the rest is history. So what you could not do at our school owing to India being a conservative country that is protective of kids, you finally did abroad in a romantic place like Rome!!

Aaah ! That gets me to the point . You didn’t leave our school but got thrown out of it 😀 And  I am sure you often wondered why ! It was ME ! It was ME..the then thunder thighed, mammoth waisted, sumo bellied, chubby little ME! Muhahaha! Now the truth is out. Let me tell you what I did during the teacher’s day of 1999.

As you might be remembering, high school students dressed up like teachers to take classes for the primary and middle school kids on Teacher’s day at school . I dressed like you, stuck a fake moustache similar to yours, walked like you and talked like you! Then I went to the nearest 4th grade class room and scared the hell out of the kids. I took a couple of  finger-sucking-after-nose-picking-after-ass-fingering    brats and fist-hammered the mud-eating-filthy-toothed-hell   out of them. And then I disappeared for the day.

The next day, their parents as you might remember, complained! You were screwed then.  Because the finger-sucking-after-nose-picking-after-ass-fingering   brats whom I fist-hammered the mud-eating-filthy-toothed-hell   out of, said that the senior was imitating your mannerisms. So the principle forgot about that episode and looked at the bigger and more threatening possibility of “your violent influence” on the high school teenage students. Oh! The day you were thrown out, I must have bakery-partied enough to add at least an inch each on my then thunder thighs, sumo-belly and mammoth waist J

That was the day I first felt like a boy finally on track to becoming a man ready to fend for himself. I for the first time believed that I was capable of innovative strategy 😉 Thank you for being the root-cause.

For that, I am gifting you with the truth behind your expulsion. No one but me knew this because I was quite low-profile at school. No one ever suspected me. In case you are reading this, you by now realized who I am. You are possibly working yourself up into a pissed-off state. To catch me and whack the monkey-crap out of me would be your next dream so to speak of possibilities.

But … you should understand that I did shed some kilos and pack a tad bit of appreciative muscle in the last 12 years. And did manage to learn a bit of taekwondo, karate, muay-thai   and  Ji-jitsu to name a few.  So it would probably not be a good idea to fight me in your now senile years 😉

Thank you once again,

Yours truly,

The dark, the fast, the fiery, the one and only,

~Ghost Runner

Operation Korigad

The Trek:

Korigad , 20 km from Lonavla on the Pune side. It had one of Shivaji’s forts. It was supposed to be an easy trek but the difficult part in the whole trip was to convince the bunch of guys to go there.

Anyway aginst all odds we made it last Saturday on the 23rd of July 2011 🙂

The Trekkers:

El Papa the (in- , dis- , un- )legendary El Mariachi duplicate, Uncle the ancient one , Landy the loose cracker , Nippo the doped one and of course, the crazy ol’ mental me ….

The Self-Persuasion:

This part is akin to the tumultuous and cumbersome due-diligence phase that usually precedes a merger/acquisition – lots of brain storming (not where to go or when to go but why to go ? 😛 )

If at all we had decided to go there was the question of logistics …not only the physical but also the psychological and mental (Boy! I must be making a little hill like Korigad, sound like Mt.Everest !). For die hard adventurers, it is no mean deal. It’s probably like going for a casual Sunday picnic. But for wee city lads such as the ones under current observation, psychologically preparing to move butts from Mumbai to the city’s outskirts and physically transitioning the body from a hung-over Saturday morning state to an excited Saturday-trekker state is a Herculean task.

The Car and the road trip:

Landy boy’s got a new Nissan Micra in the orange color. The car’s selling points for the trek:

  • We don’t have to take a train or book a taxi to reach the base village.
  • In the road trip, Landy would drive the 200KM+ distance (wouldn’t let us touch the steering wheel of his new car anyway, leaving us to blissfully get lost in dreamland)
  • It is orange colored! So stands out in the monsoon fog of the Western Ghats! God bless landy’s car …truly the hero of the story!

Anyway, so there we went. The Plan was to leave at 6 AM on the 23rd of July. Dutifully adhering to the lazily cultural and boringly traditional best practices of the Indian Standard Time, we did manage to leave not before 7:30AM.

We picked up Nippo on the way (finding the route where we had to pick up Nippo caused enough delay to give in to taking numerous smoke’n’tea breaks)

The highlight were the extra-cheese infested but totally lip-smacking burgers we managed to gobble at McDonald’s on the Mumbai-Pune highway. That was just the breakfast!

The climb

For all those who thought this was a huge killer operation with never say die shouting Rambos scaling unimaginable mental odds and physical hurdles, a colossal Hahaha at you 😀 !!!  It was a little thing, more like a walk up a hill with stairs (though the acromegalic stairs do screw your knee caps a bit)

landy - uncle - baba

landy - papa - baba

At the top, there was a fog driven hither and thither by the monsoon winds. There were other people, which motivated some of the more lecherous among our group to delve in stealthily appreciating the ladies among the other trekkers. Big bada Boom  was the little harmless CA (chick-alert ) war-cry ! Anyway, apologies for the digression …. Back to the story …

At the top, I do opine that most of the other trekkers were a mightyless bunch of in-depth pansies. Besides being on an easy trek, you don’t go around playing ringa ringa roses  on the top of a hill (boys and girls alike). So we decided to set some trends  ….true maverick macho groovy style

The trend-setting

Nippo

We took off our shirts (oblivious of contributing too much cognition  & recognition towards bellies, body hair and everything else) and jumped in the big lake on top of Korigad. Much to almost everyone’s delight (perhaps a little disgust)  that finally there was some amusing action on Korigad.

who are the men eh ??? 😀

Other strangers followed suit by jumping into the lake too…. 😉

The Return

We ate at a food court on the highway after descending the hill and driving a few miles. Some of the more lecherous among us were at it again at the food court, staring here and there, whispering big bada boom  and laughing  a**es off. And then  we hit the road again when we chanced upon the old man …

The old man

There was a car in front of us. There was an old man in the car with his family. There was a minor traffic congestion in a narrow lane. So a medium-sized queue of cars was piling up. Someone kept honking from behind much to a lot of annoyance …then it happened …

The old man in front of our car, suddenly got off his car in a fit of rage (perhaps because he wrongly thought we were the ones unnecessarily honking) and stared at us. He then noticed there were 5 buffalo-like guys (Well Landy is a  feather weight , so 4 buffalos + one baby buffalo! 😛 ) in our car. Landy made a “Aah! What !”  expression with a rooster-like swagger of his head. The old man silently went back to his car. Drove us to a state of hysteric laughter ….

So there! Harishchandragad ! You are next 😉

~Ghost Runner

————-

Greeting card pic from Korigad:

what exactly was stinking ?

The hakka warrior and the horses of death

FOREWORD

Dedicated to Baba Ramdev!

Not for the (un)successful phenomenon related to his political, moral, philosophical or social drama, but for his ability to go hungry for long durations.

THE STORY

He strode into his home … messy, dark and claustrophobic …

He was sweaty, tired, sore in the muscles and felt like Edward Norton’s character in fight club. Courtesy the kickboxing class.

He tried to sleep …but could not. His stomach was rumbling like horses trotting in an ancient blood bath in the colloseum. The trot promised to acoustically mutate into a full fledged battle-hungry gallop if he didnt do something about his raging hunger.

He decided to cancel the dinner-cancellation plan. The dread of the thought. The thought of the  horse-galloping sound of his  hungry stomach. He dragged his feet to the fridge and all there was an old packet of hakka noodles.

‘Blast! I forgot to re fill the food supplies in the house’ he cursed himself .

The hakka packet stood there , tempting him like Helen of Troy. He was no Paris.In fact he considered himself more on the lines of Hector. Oh pas de quoi …

So he drew the battle lines. It was like the battle of red cliff (the very Chinese movie playing that same moment on TV in English with a weird dubbing in an Indian accent!!)

Now the thing about cooking hakka noodles out of a hakka noodles packet is that it is not like cooking maggi noodles. It is not that easy. No wonder there is no 2 minute noodles  campaign with the hakka noodles packet.

The mutation in the stomach began! The horses were no mere horses anymore. Their rumbling in his stomach thundered at that moment. With a strength akin to causing lateral reverberatory pounding on his already injured ribs. Already injured courtesy the kick boxing class

Anyway he set about doing it the maggi way. It took long in the micro wave maybe too long, like the good guy and military general  Zu *what the fuck ever* in the then playing Red cliff movie waits for the South wind (makes his army’s arrows reach the enemy army’s ships) way too long. Way too long in the final *how the fuck* epic battle

Finally they cooked.They looked like this

‘Not bad’ he thought.’It would taste like paper or papyrus which ever tastes worst. Something is better than nothing. Better puny and lightly armed pikemen fight the galloping-horses than puny unarmed lungi men!’  He re thought his analogy and scoffed at it. He was going nuts. Courtesy the  galloping-horses.

And then it dawned. Like the South wind finally blew in the climax of  Red Cliff, like Gandalf came with the Roherriem in the climax of the The Two Towers(LOTR 2), like Rocky Balboa got up for one more round throughout the Rocky series, like Xiao Dre stood up for one more time in The Karate Kid, he saw this in the fridge in a corner, long forgotten …

Even the mother allusion on the sticker supported his allusion of the messiah arriving. So he mixed it up with the papyrus (hakka noodles) in the bowl.

Then, finally, it tasted ok! The horses had been sent in retreat. The battle had been won

xxxxxTHE ENDxxxxxxx

The moment of superstardom

FOREWORD: A tribute to the little one who actually exists …

It was 4 30 PM of a hot sultry afternoon in the Bandra Kurla Complex by the turn of Wockhardt towers. The kind of concretized shadeless place which would send even the toughest of folks packing away.To evade the harsh nature of the Sun, setting away, but making a defining farewell statement with its rays.

She was walking by the signal, the little one, in crutches.Hardly ten, she wondered why she was walking in crutches , considering that the only one she knew who walked in crutches was the old lady who lived nearby who apparently had no legs.

But she had legs. Even then, why the contradicting utility!

It will make you a better actor. In the long term, some movie director from Mumbai will pick you up for your excellent acting ! In the short term, you get to drink cold clean water every Sunday

Chachaji’s  wise sounding words echoed through her head.

Chachaji  is always right !  she thought. He must be . He was a good man according to her though her little heart urged her to think otherwise, of a different possibility of Chacha ji’s character.

Hey here come the people!   she sidelined all thoughts as she saw the vehicles approaching the signal. She dragged herself on the crutches, taking extraordinarily well acted care not to let her feet use their muscles. You have to convince them that you are lame! Chachaji used to advise. She went to a taxi, asked for alms and was shooed away.

She stepped back, waited for a few breaths and went back to the same taxi, but from the other side where the shooing man’s wife was sitting. Maa Bhookh lagi hain! she said with the best expression of grief she could possibly conjure up. It worked … the lady took pity and gave her a 5 rupee coin.

 One more triumph! This Sunday, ice water guaranteed ! She thought. She was about to throw her crutches away and dance like that tall beautiful lady she saw on that thing called TV, while hiding under Chachaji’s bed.  What did they call her? Haan ….Katirna or was it Kartina ?? Well ! who cares! Someday I will beat her level of fame …hmmph!  She was victorious! She need not care about insiprations . She was sure she was an incredibly dextrous actress and will continue for that day. She should not be satisfied with one 5 rupee coin. What if she gets three of them or maybe four???

Then three ice water glasses ???  No! She couldn’t be so ambitious. Become like Katirna ? Maybe! But three ice water glasses in one Sunday is impossible. She bit her lips to stop thinking of what she thought were things only the Gods can get. She cursed herself for thinking such things!!

Then she thought of Chachaji, the person who saved her and many kids when they were babies. She didn’t remember her parents at all. Ungrateful people ! Insipte of having such a talented actress for a daughter, they couldn’t take care of her and abandoned her! Only Chachaji the clever person recognized her talent. So did he recognize the talent of other such kids.

All of them would be actors someday.And all of them were to do different roles…. of a blind boy, of a dumb girl etc. And her of a lame girl. The moment passers by gave you coins…. Chacha ji used to say …. it means one more person could nt see through your acting … see thats the way to do it.

To reward the deserving the 15 kids at chachaji’s place used to get a glass of cold water on sunday if they fooled more number of people that week. Which suffices to say they got Chachaji more number of coins.

Suddenly she had a flash. Why give all these coins to Chachaji ? Are not these coins valuable ? And why did Billu the 8 yr old new boy in Chachaji’s acting school lose his eyes last week, when his collection was low, (like in that stupid but famous movie I heard of ) ? The other kids said Billu was so disappointed he couldn’t act like a blind boy properly and hence, gorged out  his own eyes to realistically get into the role play.  But whosever heard of a 8 year old mustering that sort of guts ??? Rumour has it Chacha ji punished him for notbeing able to act ? Oh God ! Is Chachaji good or bad ? Is he just exploiting us with impossible dreams ??? Oh no …

Just then, a car pulled over nearby. A foreigner  who was very tall and pretty looked out. The girl did the crutch act fabulously , perhaps, in her head, even more tragically than a real lame person with crutches. The aura of tragedy must have been perfect in those moments. And these foreigners cetainly have lots of money. Perhaps   the girl thought, I transcended all the barriers of acting perhaps I reached a God level! Perhaps I actually can wish for more glasses of ice water in one Sunday ! Hahaha ….

At that moment, the foreign lady , for lack of any coins on her and for not being used to the coldness of a regular Indian crowd  (who are used to seeing so many beggars) felt an over whelming pang of pity for the lame kid. She took out a 10 rupee note, the lowest denomination she had in her purse and gave it to her with a smile.

I am a Goddess now  she thought . She never caught a 10 rupee note in her life. She could count 1 to 10 in the numbers. Thats pretty much the extent Chachaji taught her. And now she has the highest denomination she could possibly recognize. Only superstars get highest. I am heavenly. I am immortal. I can get three glasses of ice water. Oh no! I am going to burst … she thought.

Then she saw the foreigner tell the driver.The signal is green now. lets go. And then, in what was the funniest way of speaking Hindi (according to the little girl), the foreigner said, Jaldi !Jaldi !! 

Haha! that was funny! I am a superstar now. my fears are baseless. I have done the impossible with my acting skills. I can mock anyone . I am all powerful.    And then she shouted after the foreigner who gave her alms, mocking the former , with a supremely confident  aura , Jaldi!  Jaldi !! And that moment was her moment of arrogance ! Her moment of snobbishness! Her moment of superstardom…

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x THE END x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

2010: That year gone by

The previous year (2010) started with a prophecy which to my loved ones (starting with mom), was the prophecy of all prophecies. Potentially the greatest harbinger of my doom`s eventual finality (lol! What words! I should cut down on the ‘epic fantasy` reading :p)

So no matter how hard I didn`t believe  such jyotish (astrology), it did do some damage, I didnt blog for the first 6 months of 2010. Not  that there is any connection, but my blogger’s block and this astrology shit just happened to be concomitant events.

Anyway … I guess I am still alive and 2010 was one of the best years of my life …a pioneering year for many different things …! So Mr.Astrologer , take your prophecies , round them up real nice and stick it  straight up your monkey a**

x-x-x

Anyway looking back at 2010, it was quite the amusing year.Below I tried to stick to a chronological structure though I did give more priority to the free flow of thought

  1. It truly started with a bang  with me getting myself shifted to the Business Intelligence Unit at my company. Lots of statistics, heavy duty number crunching and an infinitely clanish little team! The kind of combo I would dig into any day 🙂 !
  2. Then came an event that marked the synchronization of identity with the place I live in. My future generations shall know that event  as *me shifting to a flat in Bandra (West)*, the jazziest of Mumbai residential localities by far. With food, drinks, clubs,Joggers’ park, Gold’s gym, and discotheques a breath away, non-busy times promised never to be boring again.
  3. Not to mention travelling with pals on treks around mumbai to Lohagad, Rajmachi, Manikgad et al, incidentally all spiced up by the monsoon rains.
  4. Then came the  main course of 2010. the trip to EuropeEverything from the Louvre’ in Paris to the Wall in Berlin to the crazy coffee shops in Amsterdam to the European Union Parliament  in Strasbourg !For good measure, also throw in a large measure of Curry Wurst, Khus khus, Tartflombay and 1 litre beer mugs ! Even raced against an English guy (who by the way was not the stereotypically fat British dumpty)  in Paris for a 10 round race around the Eiffel Tower.   Bumped into Mythalez and Tejo at Amsterdam (all doped in the  jolly good sense of course!)
  5. Then, there was Goa (as usual) where besides the time spent at the beaches oggling at the girls, an appreciable time was spent  biking across 100 km of the North Goa coastline … shirtless !! 😛
  6. Not to mention visiting  Hyderabad a couple of times in 2010 . Even went to the extent of biking drunk on the roads of Hyderabad . Thankfully, I was driving at 10 kmph (haha!) , too slow for anyone to get suspicious or me falling in trouble.
  7. The amount of reading  done in 2010 was a rather amusing observation.  Tried a tad more than lightly to digress away from my stereotypical tendency to stick to the sci fi and epic fantasy genre’.  Did a fair diversification  by  becoming familiar with the linguistic, historical , biographical, autobiographical, social, non-fictional categories too. Of course, never completely lost my loyalty to the epic fantasy and sci-fi genre’ . By the way, the end of 2010 from the books’ perspective sees me searching for Stephen king’s Dark tower series, waiting for Part 2 in the Left Hand of God trilogy and  trying to fully comprehend Malcolm Gladwell’s Blink
  8. Of course I did continue ( like years of yore) , with my controversial theories (for instance, the Black berry bitch) So i did invite everything from ire to appreciation from different quarters. Haha ! There was one queer instance when one particular theory (about nosy relatives on FB) got me under scrutiny in family circles.  But well! how do you become a family legend/cult  without controversy, without rising against sardonic moronisms, against …. oh God! forget it  …..
  9. Running: I should be shot if I dont talk of this. Yes! I did find my intermittently lost passion for running in 2010 …after two years (one more time!! Before I become old and crippled). Out with it came some new self-made techniques and strategies for running races. I guess I am getting into shape and preparing hard for various running events around India. Hope things work out well.

….. Well thats it for now!  2010 was not bad at all . I feel light now that I have put down the important stuff for posterity. There were obviously some bad-ass tales and some tragic ones in 2010 too, like it is for every one! But that set will find its place in the blog’s private part.

Yours truly,

Ghost Runner