Hmm. I'm still optimistic. And I should get offline. And I've ruined my English.And no one seems to speak in English any more.I've become a Bambaiya champ, by the way.Kya life me hain. Kucch Is Tara. Parting question: In which country is my height? Lol, I meant heart.
Talking of heights and lol, I've been wanting to visit Lahaul and Spiti. When I have money, I will. Columbus and Vasco da Gama did most of the work, but there must be some place on earth that is yet to be discovered. Why talk of the earth, India is big enough. Some forest that no one has ventured into. Some river that no one has bathed in. Animals who have not seen human beings. Ah, I wish there is such a place. The prospect of discovery is thrilling. Even if the place of my dreams does not exist, it is always nice to dream. Dreams give you a story. And stories are intriguing.
The brain is impatient, the heart isn't. I'm still obsessively following the soap operas. Though Radha and her daughters continue to boost sales of glycerine, the director seems to have decided that a few smiles aren't going to spoil anyone's day (or his profits). Kanya and Ranbir are falling in love - AA, please take some tips on how to change men from the Kapoor stable. Kalyani is the dahej, sorry, dahhej, and everyone lives like life is one big party. And the dahhej knows salsa! And the women wear wedding finery in the kitchen. There will never be a bidai in Bidaai. They also dress like imitation jewellery is going out of fashion. Babul ka aangan chootey na has finally got Aastha married - putting an end to her "marriage is a yo-yo ball" behaviour. Television has stepped further north with Mera Sasural - bringing Pathankot and Jammu to your homes. Here, men come with platoons (not just orderlies) to meet future wives at the railway station. And women jump out of moving trains in nightsuits. After having her life successively ruined and salvaged, Kinjal decides to wreck it on the eve of her marriage again, in what she thinks is a magnanimous act of self-sacrifice. Another month before life comes back on track. As for Amber-Dhara, they are still together, though the gossip rags speculate that things will change soon. And I read the gossip rags. Every day.
There I go. Bombastically yours. Better than the corny "educationally yours". I think "yours" is full of all that one needs to express, those adverbs are unnecessary. But again, yours seems very personal, close to the heart. Like leaving things unsaid because you know they have been understood.
As the Night Goddess flies away, the voluminous folds of her gown swirl with the air. Soon, the stars recede, and darkness envelops her. The moon fades into temporary oblivion. To await the day, and arise. Again. Good Night will always be followed by Good Morning. And Good Night. It's a cycle, but is it vicious?