Wednesday, March 23, 2011

The food court is my Mecca

As an intern I silently sit, staying late and working hard, hoping to answer all questions put before me, to submit said answers in record time, to find every possible authority needed to answer said questions. My googling skills are relied on and stretched to scary limits. Staggeringly heavy books from the library are pored over. Documents are typed fast, proofread, neatly spaced and justified.

Sitting in one chair for hours on end awakes in me a feeling that I have often felt over the past few years of college. That feeling of wanting to take flight and traveling to places far away, to see great and majestic things, to lose oneself in the jubilant freedom of it all.

That, I feel today as a lowly intern.

I believe the term for this is wanderlust.

Everyday, I will my seniors to require something to be printed and then graciously offer to get it from the printer. I consume copious cups of coffee because of the ten second walk to the pantry, where the coffee machine is located. The loo, of course, is a favourite destination. One need never explain why it is frequented so often.

So for those who want to dive into waterfalls, who want to bungee jump off cliffs into the breathtaking void below, who want to sing with all the voices of the mountain and paint with all the colours of the wind, this is for you.

I feel you man.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Peek hour

It is only when you see someone's expression go from a "what the fuck are you looking at?" to a wide grin, that you realise what a clumsy transition it actually is.

First there's subdued indifference, perhaps even a little hostility. The glazed stare turns into flickering comprehension. Sudden surprise, eyes widen. And then, an actual smile. All in under a second.

Randomly smiling at mildly disgruntled strangers on the train leads to fascinating and completely useless observations.

Monday, March 14, 2011

This is home.

I've becomes so used to jaded old Hallmark holidays. One usually expects rants about the pointlessness of it all and countless bad jokes on Twitter. Then there was this Women's Day, just last week. I heard about men in offices practicing and putting on skits for the ladies. About giving them spa certificates and letting women go home early in a upscale law firms. About Rajasthan Roadways letting all women travel for free on Women's day. I can't help but be utterly and completely surprised. And amused. So cute.


There's nothing quite like the cool wind blowing against you as you hang out of a train at the end of a long day to make you just that much less tired, just that much less cranky, to make you look forward to the next day. Or perhaps, dread it a bit less.


I saw a tree. It was stripped bare. Not a single leaf on it. It would have looked dead and might have made an artsy subject for many an emo amateur photographer (like self, I disparage you not) who might then experiment with fun effects like monochrome and high contrast and make a twisted dark image out of it and put it up on Flickr, but for one little thing. This tree was covered with the daintiest pretty pink flowers. The tree seemed to look more surprised at this fact than anyone else.


It takes just the sight of a clumsy little puppy to make you completely delighted and wistful. It takes just a momentary glimpse into the face of that someone, complete with goofy grin and glasses and that wonderful expression on their face that tells you that they would not want be anywhere else, to make you feel like existing is all the more worthwhile and make you feel warm and peaceful and happy and make you want to curl up there in that very position and sleep and preserve it forever. That is home.