Around the same time as Ammani's QT160
Samaya Balraj was out for a jog in the park. The new surroundings don't look new at all. It was a week since he moved to this suburb (a demotion according to him) but he can't clearly make out the differences. Places, these days don't have a character about them, he muses. Have to make friends with some regulars at the park, he resolves. Ha! A brown face jogging towards him. Maybe a Hi, a smile or a nod wouldn't be out of place, he hopes. He is almost near her, an arms length, when he notices the look on her face. She has recognised him from someplace, he realises but he can't, for the life of him put a name to the face. Not a clue. Eyes meet and still no name. He can't afford to say he doesn't remember, can he? What if she was someone that he must remember? He quickly averts his gaze and jogs on. His forehead creases in a frown in an attempt at recall.
Time whizzes by and I, I write of glimpses I steal
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Rivalry
Around the same time as Ammani's QT 158
Two brothers are trying to solve a puzzle. The answer to which is 'flamenco'. But they don't know it yet and they have been staring at the page for a few minutes now. Gypsy, dance, clap, stamp - clues keep flashing in his head, the elder one's. He knows it from somewhere but can't quite get it yet. He looks at his brother , equally frantic to solve the puzzle. "Poor sod, his life is a mess. I wish I could do something to help him", he thinks. Eight letter word with third letter 'a', sixth letter 'n' and ending with 'o'. 'Flamenco' - the answer has to be flamenco. It checks out. He feels like yelling out loud that he has cracked it. But he looks at the younger one's frenzied efforts to better him, something he has had to do since his kindergarten. He restrains himself and then calmly suggests, "The answer is on page 56. Should we take a look?"
Two brothers are trying to solve a puzzle. The answer to which is 'flamenco'. But they don't know it yet and they have been staring at the page for a few minutes now. Gypsy, dance, clap, stamp - clues keep flashing in his head, the elder one's. He knows it from somewhere but can't quite get it yet. He looks at his brother , equally frantic to solve the puzzle. "Poor sod, his life is a mess. I wish I could do something to help him", he thinks. Eight letter word with third letter 'a', sixth letter 'n' and ending with 'o'. 'Flamenco' - the answer has to be flamenco. It checks out. He feels like yelling out loud that he has cracked it. But he looks at the younger one's frenzied efforts to better him, something he has had to do since his kindergarten. He restrains himself and then calmly suggests, "The answer is on page 56. Should we take a look?"
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Pope goes Oh Poop!
Everyone makes mistakes. It is part and parcel of being human. Even saints and scholars are susceptible to it. I mean, if someone held a hand grenade in their hand, it is so easy to absentmindedly pull the pin. You can't blame them for that, can you?
Look at the Pope. He was sitting there, alone in the Vatican palace, getting bored. Apart from a few tourists who managed to fit in a coupla hours at the Vatican in their All-Europe tour itinerary, there weren't many people to even wave at. And the world, the world was getting too sensible.
Bush had admitted that perhaps the war on Iraq was possibly a mistake. I don't mean to say it was wrong. But maybe, the possibility that the war could have been a mistake cannot be entirely ruled out. If you know what I mean.
Blair was going to be kicked out. Israel was going to withdraw from Lebanon. Oil prices were stabilising. Even hurricanes petered out to harmless storms.
The world wasn't without problems. There was rain in Malaysia that stole the thunder from Sachin's comeback and the new baby boy 'Sutton', who was born to pop diva Britney.
Still, there really wasn't much happening. So...
poop... (that was the grenade pin if you didn't realise)
This Pope totally rocks. He will be the pin-up poster boy of every dreamy-eyed Muslim. Only the true Muslims. Not the "We are peace-loving, faithful followers of Mohamed" posers. He has retracted his comments and almost apologised but that's like trying to put the pin back in. In some models of grenades, that would work. This one... I am not so sure.
Look at the Pope. He was sitting there, alone in the Vatican palace, getting bored. Apart from a few tourists who managed to fit in a coupla hours at the Vatican in their All-Europe tour itinerary, there weren't many people to even wave at. And the world, the world was getting too sensible.
Bush had admitted that perhaps the war on Iraq was possibly a mistake. I don't mean to say it was wrong. But maybe, the possibility that the war could have been a mistake cannot be entirely ruled out. If you know what I mean.
Blair was going to be kicked out. Israel was going to withdraw from Lebanon. Oil prices were stabilising. Even hurricanes petered out to harmless storms.
The world wasn't without problems. There was rain in Malaysia that stole the thunder from Sachin's comeback and the new baby boy 'Sutton', who was born to pop diva Britney.
Still, there really wasn't much happening. So...
poop... (that was the grenade pin if you didn't realise)
This Pope totally rocks. He will be the pin-up poster boy of every dreamy-eyed Muslim. Only the true Muslims. Not the "We are peace-loving, faithful followers of Mohamed" posers. He has retracted his comments and almost apologised but that's like trying to put the pin back in. In some models of grenades, that would work. This one... I am not so sure.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)