Rajiv, Rajiv, you brilliant man. I ain't no oppurtunist! And my love for you is true.
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Love is a Crapping Horse!
I been wanting to write this for so long that I can't even remember too clearly what I wanted to say. I'm going to attempt to write this anyway, So there! At the outset I must claim that neither the statement nor the support is original. Quoted by Will Truman of the "Will and Grace" fame, it still is a profound statement. So why is Love a crapping horse you wonder? . Like Will says," Love is like being driven in horse drawn carriage on a moonlit night in a beautiful park. In the beginning it’s incredibly romantic but eventually you realise that you're cold and that you are staring at the butt of a horse that is crapping". While this analogy maybe true for some of us, I'm sure that is still percentage of the love population who will take offence at this statement So here is presenting a healthy comparison for and against this statement. Supporting this is easy. Compare 90% of all relationships in your life and I mean not just …
Standing here until you make a move/Hanging by a moment here with you.
It was earlier this morning that I realised with an alarming note that my life has suddenly become directed by other people. Its no longer about what I want to do but about what everyone else in my life is doing and do I want to join in. One year ago, I traded by singledom to get into a life of couplehood. While on the surface that seems like a great transition, the truth is I have lost a lot more of my identity in this year that I have growing up the last 27 years. I’m not saying this in a mildly resentful manner but more in a "I’m so shocked" manner. Now anyone who knows me, thinks (and quite rightly) that I’m the beholder of my destiny, the captain of my ship, the fore runner of my relay team so on and so forth. That I do things when I want them, how I want them and where I want them. People have the option of coming along or be left out. Yet today, I’m standing still. Waiting for someone to tell me wh…
For Vicky On March 5th 2006 at 1:00pm Vicky, Dog and companion extraordinaire breathed his last in Sarita Raghavan’s arms. With his liver finally giving up on him, the death was quick and fast. Buried in the PFA pet cemetery in Kengeri, he now shares a living space next to Richie. Dog and companion of another grieving owner. When I started writing this it was originally turning out to be something that if anyone, who knows me read would cry. But for the first time in my life I want this to be about Vicky not about me and how I feel. I want this to forever be the way I’ll remember him. The way he deserves to be described. The way he left his life. Sixteen years ago when he wandered off the streets and chose to live with us, I remember how small he was. A little mutt that always knew what he wanted to do. He wagged his tail when he wanted, he ate when he wanted to, he ate what he wanted to. We got him in a crowd where no one else had a dog. At a time when we all had a lot of time. This i…