Dear readers, the original title of this post was ‘Confusticated and Bebothered’. But I became jittery at the last minute, even though no detractors were skinned alive in the process of pilfering it from Dictionary.com’s daily offering, who in turn…
Category: Such is Life
Hangmen of April
Come April and I am awash with phone calls from friends and colleagues about how they fared in the annual performance appraisals. Certain lesions of the past rendered unmentionable on this blog due to reasons of propriety, have bestowed the…
The Ark of Nostalgia
“I'm your phantom dance partner. I'm your shadow. I'm not anything more.” ~Haruki Murakami As if working for a bank weren’t traumatic enough, I am working for a subsidiary bank undergoing absorption in its parent. It is highly hypocritical of someone…
The Siege of the Bog
It happened when I was eight or nine. What revived the memory this past month was the hurried confession of Matt Renshaw, a rookie Australian batsman to his captain, as he scrambled for the loo from the middle of a…
Thus Spake My Father
As I look back at the life of my departed father, I realise how he had been a part of the transitional era that stood with a foot in the mysteries of the yore and the other into the increasingly…
Train to Nada Land
Dear friend and patrons, by the time you read this post, I’d be rocking away to my old hometown in a still older train panting over the ancient tracks laid down by the British looking to save the Indians from…
Why Did the Chicken Write a Blog?
ARNAB GOSWAMI: Can you tell this, on this channel, right in front of all of us: why can’t the chicken write a blog? The nation wants to know. RAHUL GANDHI: The chicken has written the biggest blog since Independence and…
The Orb of Hereafter
About a week shy of the onset of the New Year, I presumptuously augmented the copyright notice at my blog to 2017. Don’t mistake me, I have long stopped caring about the trolls looking forward to plagiarizing my mumbling —anyone…
Goodbye, Cynthia Jobin
I cannot say Cynthia Jobin was lonely when I met her, surrounded as she was by a swarm of friends, eagerly awaiting the next instalment of priceless poetry on her blog, ‘Littleoldladywho.net’. I also cannot say I met Cynthia Jobin…
A Few Black Sheep and a Black Hole
If I was never really proud to be a banker, these are certainly not the times to have a change of heart when the entire species is steeped in disgrace around these tracts of the planet. In the apocalyptic times…
Haruki Murakami’s Well
Recently, an old friend of mine who is also under the bondage of a bank, confessed to me that he had been contemplating digging a well in the backyard of his house. The gushing fool that I am, I broke…
The Same Night
“The same night whitening the same trees. We, of that time, are no longer the same.” ~Pablo Neruda I was young when I first read those lines, from a poem I still regard as one of the finest I have…
One Grain Amongst the Storm 