Saturday, August 04, 2007

Generalisations, and Accusations, and Insinuations, and Suchlike

So on a saturday morning, in the middle of the desert, some general mindless meandering thoughts, and points of view, and interesting observations (All my own work)..

Like I found out that I'm not the only pretender who apes Behram Contractor. And that there are those who are given reams and reams of newsprint so they may sully their reader's eyes with mediocre Busybee-ish "Like"s and dis"Like"s... and is it coincidental, or is it completely intended that these mediocre observations should accompany mediocre cricket?

And that I am getting to write again. And that when the spirit is willing, the body is conveniently misplaced at some other location.

Like Karma is easy come easy go.

Like Mind blowing lines, and Slick copy accompanying equally intelligent thoughts, and round about sentences in mildly suggestive assertiveness, describing situations that bring on heady bouts of anger, distaste, opinions, salty prose, and irritation, should be written down and noted down for posterity's sake.

And I visited Panvel in an ST Bus. It was a quick journey there. That is the only adjective I can generously use in favour of the ST Bus. And contrary to popular perception, the driver was safe. Ofcourse, that is a subjective point of view, since I, the subject was sitting on the inside, and the seats were Definitely greener on my side of the fence.

And I saw that the small village once was famous for its Ramakant Vada-Pav, and its Bhajiya and Chai and Waterfalls, and nature treks, and small paths, and panthers in its greenery, and being on the way to Karnala, and Goa, and Pune, and Khopoli, and Karjat, is no longer on the way but is the end on the map.

And all traces of the that old village have been obliterated, and now assembly-line townships, and buildings, and roads, and post offices, and ICICI Banks, and HDFC Banks, and Mahesh Tutorials, and McDonalds, and foresighted individuals, once in decrepit rickshaws, now in Sumos and Scorpios, preening around their 50,000 Rs per meter foot land, never mind that it is in the mangroves, and that it is in a swamp, and that the roads look like the Moon's Surface, and that there are no street lights, and that your nearest neighbours are snakes and crabs.

And builders, and investors, and gujjus, and sindhis and Mr and Mrs Moneybags from Andheri and Juhu, and Bandra, and Santacruz, investing and hungrily staring at their property prices doubling and then tripling, rubbing their hands in glee.

Ofcourse, all this humbled me, so I returned by ST Bus, and (although I was suitably irritated by the ST bus), I returned in 1 piece and far earlier than a train or a car would reach me.

And now I must go. Or my flight will offload me.



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