Mera baap doctor hai.

My father was overflowing with love and concern for his little kid who was running a high temperature and had aches all over his body today. So he comes back home, and tells me that he has got me some things which will make me absolutely fit-and-fine in no time. And unpacks, with a lot of excitement, a box which contains all kinds of medicine.

Clearly, a doctor's life sucks.

Eternal Sunshine, once again.

The day started with that. And ended with that.

But in the middle, i visited a place called Ghalib Bar. It was one of those places, which i saw from the outside throughout my growing up life, and would wonder about all the kinds of things that could go on inside. They allowed me in even though i was wearing shorts because that's the 'international dressing' these days, they said. And once i stepped in.

Perspective-on-life-changing score, two out of two, for now.

Clear Your Mind.

Tomorrow i will wake up to Kate Winslet, Jim Carrey, and Kirsten Dunst smiling at me.

And my perspective on life shall change, yet again.

:-)

Shehron Shehron Baat Chali Hai

It's always cool to go to a mountain and marvel at the snow-covered peak glistening in the golden rays of sun it receives on the odd day, and indeed the expanse of the ocean in front of you while you sit on a beach, but there is a wind which blows across cities, which makes it rather interesting to notice too. There are these quirks which every city carries, which somehow say a lot more about the unconscious state the streets live in than anything else. Basically, i like visiting cities. Different different kinds of roads and buildings and different different kinds of people talk in different different kinds of languages and have different different disgusting habits, its all nice to see. :-)

For example, if you could imagine an entire city made up of streets which Only either looked like Strand Road (Oh, the impression a first time visitor would get about Calcutta when he's on his way in from Howrah for the first time, it's never ceased to make me chuckle) or Ripon Street, it would be called Jamshedpur. Imagine auto rickshaws riding innocuously on the extreme left in these huge, clean, carpet-like roads one instant and then plummeting into the hustle-bustle of a regular fish market the next, and then coming out again onto the surface again in the next. The explanation, is that half the city is run by Tata, and half by the government.

In Kanpur, they cuss. Left, right and centre. I happened to be at a tea stall run by an old gentleman who had shiny white hair. An early morning, when people in the Lakes would be recognising each other while walking and going 'Good morning Mr Banerjee!', he was going, "Arre Sharma bhadue! kaisa hai betichod!"

And in Pune, there are two wheelers Everywhere. A normal family has a scooty for each female member, a bike or a scooty or a scooter for each guy, and Then they have their cars. Oh, and Pune has my respect. I came across a PINK auto-rickshaw there. SHOCKING PINK (i can't really find a pink shocking enough in the font colours here, but it comes close), no kidding.

Also, i spent a night on the Marine Drive in Bombay (i wish i got show caused by somebody from the Sena for using Bombay, it would be so cool) and at around four thirty in the morning, the Lake-equivalent dadus came out to jog. Only, they were all plugged in to their ipods, and they Literally jumped over people sleeping on the footpath by the sea.

Wait.

Shit.

Imagine the quirks Calcutta would have for non-Calcuttans.

Oh Shit.