chalk it up to experience

My disgustingly devious friends under the pretense of taking me to a bar at the beach within the city, kidnapped me to a place which is about 120km out of Colombo. I freaked out at first considering I had told my mum that I would be back early but then the trashy techno and copious amounts of tobacco did their magic on me and half-way there I felt myself relax.

So, this place, Hikkaduwa has come to be known as the party capital of Sri Lanka. Its supposed to be full of dodgy beach bars filled with your usual assortment of beach boys, Caucasians, gays (both beach boy and Caucasian) and murderers, thieves and scoundrels. Ok, the last part I only imagined. But the link that draws them all together are pot and burning libidinous desires. I imagine both pot and these desires are very closely related. Anyway, just past Christmas Eve, no activity of significant proportions was seen when we arrived, so, with the result of us driving even further out, we drove to Unawatune which is fast becoming the sister-capital of Hikka.

The place was called, Riddim – a name, I presume heavily influenced by the major Rastafarians known to the populace today – Bob Marley & Sean Paul. In true South-Asian fashion, one of said devious friends paid cover and went inside to source out the owner who is apparently very well acquainted with them. Eventually, the right strings were pulled and the ‘vintage’ purple ink was stamped onto our arms and so began the second phase of my unexpected adventure – the first being the emotional rollercoaster of a drive to the damn place (stages of emotion: panic, fear, panic, anger, an emotion centering on internal monologues such as: don’t be a loser, go with the flow, chalk it up to experience, and finally, acceptance and relaxation).

The people inside were crazy and obviously doped up with the various substances making the rounds inside the club. Part of the club was sheltered – the dance floor, the DJ podium with the sides of club facing out to the sea. And the bar was located outside on the beach with the prices of alcohol being so temptingly cheap but I did restrain myself considering I had a mother to return to (also attempting to save the motherly forgiveness quota for inevitable NYE drunken splash-out). A lot of illicit activity was going on – drug taking, and quite a lot of homo-activity. Considering the alpha male culture of Sri Lanka – this was quite a revelation to me. My theory to explain the overcompensated nonchalance towards this activity is built on three pillars:

--> A lot of people are potted up

--> People are well-versed in the Rastafarian concept of living in the moment and going with the flow and therefore know that man on man activity is a symptom of this and are therefore too scared to reveal themselves as non-Rastafarian by voicing out their splendidly bigoted views.

--> People share a common understanding that this location is an oasis out of Colombo where gossip comes to a halt (obviously they have never met me) and secret desires and needs are indulged in without fear of judgment. Perhaps this is a bond that can overcome any personal prejudices one might have.

Anyway, the substances made their way to us and although I continued to restrain myself, I let up a few notches so I could properly start enjoying myself. True enough, after a couple of drags over 2 hours, 3-4 arracks, a beer and some vodka, I felt really, truly great (and more than a little dehydrated).

We danced everywhere but the most enjoyable part was when we danced at a point on the beach where the waves were only strong enough to lap at your feet. There was this really doped up fire-dancer beach boy who took to playing with his fire toys very close to us and I think if someone took a picture of that scene, we would have looked like some Satan worshipping toy boys. I really hope I get to visit this place again before I leave the motherland.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

where the heart is

After exactly 12 months, I am on a proper vacation. By proper vacation I mean that I can do as I please, whenever I please. That may not be true in the strictest sense considering that I am part of a Sindhi family – the amount of errands to run, the people to fetch – but so far, I have been able to sleep about 12 hours every day that I have been on holiday. It is brilliant I tell you.

The above may suggest that I haven’t really been productive at all in the last 3 days I’ve been in good ol’ depressing, economically run-down Colombo, but I’ve gone for a Christmas dinner, hung out with cousins, caught up with friends over the phone, made plans, almost finished Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh and watched half of Crash. Oh yes, I have also worked on a questionnaire and a fieldwork brief – the clients never really leave you alone do they?

In the true spirit of Christmas and for the love of lists, I am going to jot down all the pros and cons of being in Sri Lanka on holiday:

Pros are being able to:
Be with family and the fabulous niece
Catch up and gossip with old friends
Smoke up
Not work (somewhat)
Catch up on sleep
Catch up on some much-needed reading and watching movies
Not spend your own money
Eat all the wonderful food; also cheap-ass alcohol
Reap the benefits of a third-world country existence i.e. high interest rates on fixed deposits, chauffeur (or as we fondly say, Driver!!), domestic helpers (maids!), and briberrrrryyyy. Wooo hooo!

Cons:
Not being able to smoke whenever I please (long term health benefit)
Low water pressure – specific to my house I think
Being away from Singapore when all the good movies are coming out
Slow Internet speeds

Since nobody apart from my not-so Internet savvy mum stays in the house when I am away, the Internet connection has lapsed (not that it was awesomely helpful before considering it was a dial-up). So now, I have to do without it. However, as it happened, while I was on the laptop and whiling it away organizing my files (technologically therapeutic), my wireless internet connection suddenly came to life! Woot. Basically some building in the area had switched on their wireless and the magic Internet waves filtered into my humble abode.

However, today, it does not seem to work. The magic appears to have disappeared. Sigh.

a vague ambitious notion

Recently, more than ever, I have been thinking of myself during my pre-university days and perhaps during that time of tertiary education. I believe I might actually have been quite ambitious! I was ready to go out into the workforce as a bright spark who would change organizations and be and I quote 'an exemplary colleague, peer, friend, subordinate and manager'. God Almighty! Was I naive or what?

Since then, its been a complete blur of utter despair and panic over deadlines, delirious anticipation for the weekend and fitful slumber which usually does not ever surpass 5 hours every night. And what about living up to that magnificently constructed sentence that promises ever so much? I think, its probably been more about attempting to be an exemplary subordinate only to be shot down by a stupid client or a stupid boss who takes your exemplary performance not as a sign to praise or reward you but rather to punish you with more work. And I think I've become a better actor too! Imagine the amount of effort it takes to speak nicely or even civilly to a boss or a client who has just handed you an extra 5 hours a day of work for the next month!! An exemplary actor that is what I am.

I remember starting out at my first client-servicing agency and being completely accepting of all the deadlines handed down to me even though I fully knew that I could not keep to them. Reason: Fear. Now, that fear still exists to an extent but I speak out if requests are unreasonable or worse, impossible. But what, conceivably, can you say to a bitch of a client who controls about 2 million USD in research budget a year? You say, and I interpret: Yes, Yes, Yes. Please take that hot poker and rape me and my entire team in the arse while you sit back and enjoy.

Strangely enough, most of the time I enjoy the contentious nature of the relationship between the client and agency because it really does help to have a client who is totally into being part of the research design but then when it borders on the interfering.... that is what disillusions me. And sometimes its the opposite: an apathetic client, ignorant of all things research related but only focused on answering questions which the research can't really answer.

Anyway, before I digress too much, I would just like to say that this disillusion I feel with myself and my industry does not fully encompass me. I say this because through this disillusionment has come a worldview which is slightly wider (panaromic even); more focused on healthying myself up (although a lot more improvement is needed and possible) and also to try other things which I can do (more reading, more writing) and also to think of a way to make more money!!!

I am feeling this vague notion that I need to write, and taking pleasure in withdrawing myself from the world and thinking about stories I could write, plots I could develop and characters whom I could flesh out (god forbid, two dimensionally). I haven't felt this way in years and I'm liking it and really, really, really hoping that this vague notion will actually morph into reality.

Here's wishing me luck!

P.S. I haven't really explored the possibility that my writing may actually be bad. But again, I am really, really, really hoping it IS bad...ass.

of questionably new horizons and different vantage points.

Finally made the move over to the new company. Starting my 3rd week there in a couple of hours and already been handed down a couple of deadlines which has been quite stressful but find myself perfectly able to handle them.

Only thing I dislike at the moment is that I am not too familiar with the SOP's that make up the everyday life of the company, for e.g. the process methodologies of starting a new project, the delegation procedure, the paperwork. There really is a lot of paperwork to be filled out at this company but the good thing is that the people to whom the work is delegated to actually do a good job at it because they have been hired to do exactly that! So, so far, so good.

The colleagues are also perfectly nice too! Making friends with some of them already and it feels good that I am settling in well and am able to be my usual filthy-mouthed self! yay! I really must cut down on the usage of swear words! One day, its going to get me into trouble (or more trouble that it already has in the past couple of years). An ex-colleague also works there and it really is such a pleasure to be able to work together again because our stint together at the previous company was cut abominably short.

Anyway, I am writing this at the tail-end of what has been a very relaxing, very non-alcoholic weekend. Watched The Dark Knight on Friday (my grade: B+, but thinking of upgrading to A-) and then chilled out at a friend's place till the wee hours of the morning. Since the said friend and company went to Malaysia the next day, I just sat on my ass and did up a set of charts the whole day. Finally, after sending off the report at 11pm on Saturday, met up with another friend for coffee at 12! super stuff!

On Sunday, met up for lunch with a couple of friends (I really have no idea why I am not using any names in here) and again chilled out at Starbucks for the longest time rating our friends on looks and personality (terrible, I know and can get sinister sometimes). After that, got a hair cut and signed a gym membership!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hope this can be sustained and I really hope I can lose the 18 kilos I am ideally supposed to lose. ugh. Does not sound too good. Should have seen the trainer's eyes when I pulled out the pack of Marlboro's from my pocket. After that came back home, collected the food my dearest flatmate had bought for me and went to the now-returned from Malaysia friend's house and chilled there till 10.30pm! And now it's 1.20am and I realize I am writing mind numbing stuff.

Perfectly good weekend and still ending it with a sinking feeling in my heart that I cannot for the life of me understand. Why does my mind stress over the most natural of feelings? Why does my heart stress over the little petty things of life like a freaking website? Rhetoric is my friend because I will answer the question myself - because those feelings are not directed at me.

It fucking sucks. But hey, the job's good right?

tainted texts

Two hilarious texts received when under the influence from similarly influenced friends at MOS:

Friend #1: Where are you?
Me: At MOS! Come!
Friend #1: Message me the address man!!!!

and..

Friend #2: Where you?
Me: Which room are you in?
Friend #2: Touch my body!

okkkk! cracking up.

a little strange

A post I wrote when drunk ages ago (about 2 years). Only just discovered the draft. I have no idea what brought this on. I really am quite the drama queen.

Alliances forms, cliques materialize and then you feel completely left out. Then you engage in the same behaviour. Your lifestyle with them becomes a vicious cycle of furtive behaviours, non-existent eye contact, fake smiles and forced laughter.

The fuck up that is rationalization. The fuck up that is hypocrisy. The fuck up that are opinions not felt but manufactured. The fuck up that is condescension. The fuck up of half-measures. The fuck up of always asking someone to be honest. The fuck up that are excuses conveniently made to justify a friendship breakdown.

Unrequited love is agony they say, but only natural. Unrequited friendship, is inexcusable.

So why does anybody bother? Because sometimes it's worth saving and sometimes it's not. I think I have realized what's not.

We Need to Talk About Kevin

I mentioned in an earlier post that I was reading Lionel Shriver's 'We Need to Talk About Kevin'. At that stage I had just started the book and was totally gripped by it.

Now that I have finally finished it, I can definitely say it's one of the most interesting books I have ever read. Please put it in your Must Read list.

Clever, clever book. Wonder why it was not awarded any other prizes apart from the Orange Prize. Too popcornish?
A short synopsis taken from Amazon:

In a series of brutally introspective missives to her husband, Franklin, from whom she is separated, Eva tries to come to grips with the fact that their 17-year-old son, Kevin, has killed seven students and two adults with his crossbow. Guiltily she recalls how, as a successful writer, she was terrified of having a child. Was it for revenge, then, that from the moment of his birth Kevin was the archetypal difficult child, screaming for hours, refusing to nurse, driving away countless nannies, and intuitively learning to "divide and conquer" his parents? When their daughter, loving and patient Celia, is born, Eva feels vindicated; but as the gap between her view of Kevin as a "Machiavellian miscreant" and Franklin's efforts to explain away their son's aberrant behavior grows wider, they find themselves facing divorce. In crisply crafted sentences that cut to the bone of her feelings about motherhood, career, family, and what it is about American culture that produces child killers, Shriver yanks the reader back and forth between blame and empathy, retribution and forgiveness. Never letting up on the tension, Shriver ensures that, like Eva, the reader grapples with unhealed wounds.

7 Random Things

Confab's gone and tagged me on this so I guess I have to do my duty... In fact this kind of thing is right my alley. I have never denied that I am a geek-loser who is fascinated by top 10 lists, movie/book ratings and award shows. So i am actually kinda excited about this. ha ha.

Ok the rules:
~ Link your tagger and list these rules on your blog
~ Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
~ Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
~ Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Point to note: I am a very open guy. Too open. Therefore most of the stuff that I list here is probably not random at all.

1. I spit a lot when I smoke. I can't help it. There's this unnatural urge in me to spit whenever I exhale after a puff. I think it's some irrational hormone telling me that if I spit, the nicotine which I have just ingested will not really lace my lungs. A lot of people really find it disgusting and I have learnt to control it most of the time but I will still steal a quick spit when no one is looking.

2. It is to my understanding that everyone knows that I keep a list of movies I have watched and my corresponding grade for it. What most don't know is that I will revisit this list every once in a while to see whether I still have the same opinions. So I hide the column of grades and go through a process I call re-grading. Then I have some fun comparing the two set of grades I have given. I think my re-grading % is close to 90%. It is a relief that I am not as fickle as I thought. For all managers out there who have listened to my excuses of not meeting deadlines... this is the real reason.

3. I keep 5-6 bottles of water at my desk all the time. I try to drink lots to keep my body cool and comfortable. ha ha. I do it to prevent acne from spreading to my face. Sadly, my back has been ravaged by this awful disease and water, if not harming me in any way, is actually not doing much to help either.

4. I have a fascination with the occult. I will browse through hundreds of pages containing information on witchcraft, dark magic, the wiccan religion etc. and more often than not harbor some fantasy about being a warlock. However, for some random reason, whenever I have this fantasy, a suave ruthless image is sadly not conjured. What is conjured is always an image of me looking like Mr. Weatherbee from Riverdale High.

5. Speaking about fantasies.... My real ambition in life is to be a writer. But whenever I think of myself in a position that I might be remembered for, a researcher or a writer will never crop up. I always, always imagine being remembered as a teacher. Think Dead Poet's Society.

6. I talk to myself. And it's usually tied to random fact no.5. Always catch myself telling myself something but with the tone of a teacher. Like 'now, now, you must always try to come to work on time'. Ugh. Too personal. Also creepy.

7. I have a fear that I have Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD). Reasons: Random fact no.6, tendency to imagine a third non-existent person sitting next to us at McDonalds at 6am after a night of festivities, tendency to be a completely different person when drunk etc.

Alright. That's done.

I'm gonna tag my friend YC!

life chore

Today, I resigned from the market research company I have been working at for the last year and a half.

Thought I would feel a sense of exhilaration; a sense of relief. Unfortunately it did not come. Instead, this tiresome mood took me over and never let me go until I came home and decided to do some chores instead. But I understand that life is a chore too. So which is the bigger chore to live through?

I think part of me wants to feel like a failure; wants to feel miserable. Maybe I am one of those sadomasochists who like to inflict all sorts of horrible pain onto themselves. These actions result, under different circumstances and different stages of intoxication, in two separate, yet intertwined kinds of state: anger and sadness.

Anger because I feel I don’t deserve it and sadness because I feel that I do.

I guess I need a therapist. Like right now. Or is that too self-indulgent? It would be nice to talk freely and not be afraid of being judged…. And maybe, just maybe, all this talk and judgment is not really a big deal because the therapist will reveal that my ‘problems’ are just like the rest of the world’s problems.

And… for that instant, I will feel great waves of relief wash over me but in one fascinating, flabbergasting-ly, sickeningly horrid moment I will realize that I already know this and I am still the same person, going through the same shite which coincidentally everyone is going through but so what? Does that make the problem better? I hardly think so.

of breakdowns and deadlines

It's 4.45am on a Friday and I am trying to meet a 12noon deadline. I don't think I will make it. Feels quite horrible to be up at this hour really, especially since I crashed into my short-lived stupor only at midnight.

To make things worse, the air-conditioner in my room has broken down. I am using a fan! I haven't used one in years. How does it even work? Do I have to aim it at me? ha ha. Alright, I am not that bad but seriously, fans are so 1984.

Here I am worrying more about having an air-conditioned room than trying to meet my noon deadline. Pat on back for being the most considerate, competent, selfless and efficient employee of the year.

(Drunken) Nights & Days

Some of the other highlights of the past couple of months:

Singapore Flyer

A few of us – 23 to be exact – went on the Singapore Flyer at the same time. The views were gorgeous but not something, I would suppose, that we would have enjoyed had it been a much smaller group. Anyway, we sneaked in a bottle of JWBL inside and had a gala time doing ‘moodi’ shots. Ha ha.

Sri Lankan Dinner and Dance

Every year the Singapore Sinhalese Association organizes a Dinner & Dance for all Sri Lankans living in Singapore and this year, a record number from our group of friends decided to attend.

Therefore we arrived in all our finery – sarees, dresses, sarongs, kurtas, jeans – and proceeded to disgrace ourselves thoroughly. Since we were so delighted to see each other (after, oh, I don’t know like 2 days) we stood around and caused a real big racket which prompted the emcee to shout at us to sit down and shut up several times over. Again, we sneaked about 5 bottles of booze. Maybe that explains the racket we caused.

Our tables won 2 bottles of wine, a Samsung MP3 player and a Rice Cooker and I got pulled up on stage in Idol like fashion to be one of the three people who were in the running for the 1st prize of the Lucky Draw – a 2 way ticket to Sri Lanka! Anyway I got booted off… ha ha. Sad.

Also ended up dancing on chairs like real hooligans with fellow hooligans Shavanka and Aftab!! And also when the alcohol had run out, ran around tables finishing off other people’s unfinished drinks only to find out that fellow hooligan Aftab had done the same thing too.

KL Trip

The Lanka Lions (a Singaporean cricket team consisting of some of our friends – Ram, Kevin, Aftab) went to Kuala Lampur, Malaysia for a cricket tour and through some major planning and inevitable logistical nightmares (most of us being Sri Lankans, what would you expect?) a lot of us accompanied the team.

While there, we did what we do best – procrastinated, made fools of ourselves and clubbed like fiends. We did a bit of shopping too. Bought a lot of chewing gum and cigarettes, smoked a lot in public places like IN CLUBS (yay!) and generally had a good time rushing about trying to do a million things at once.

Our first clubbing stop was Rum Jungle in Bukit Bintang. I would suppose it’s one of your usual-looking clubs but with the combination of awesome company, really good live music, indoor smoking and cheap as fuck drinks, the place basically outdid any other clubbing experience I have had in Singapore in the last couple of months. We also made a trip down to Zouk but ended up only entering Loft (the RnB equivalent to Phuture in Zouk Singapore). Basically the place plays the same kind of music but there’s more than ample space to do dance and have a good time. Super super. Everything’s rather super no?

Also visited this really horrible club Raven (the only place open at 4am on a Saturday morning). It looks, feels and sounds like a total druggie place. The music is deafeningly loud, the lighting almost pitch black and the bouncers and staff looking like a combination of Ellen Burstyn in final stages of Requiem for a Dream and a dacoit movie made in Bollywood during the 80’s. Amidst shouts of how our testicles were vibrating we left the club in a jiffy.

Oh yes, we also watched some of the cricket played by our friends on the Lanka Lions team and attended an official dinner hosted by them in the night during which we were regaled by Sri Lankan uncles singing about their ‘bum-bum badero’s’ and Aftab and Ram singing censored Baila since there we so many kids there. Hilarious.

Our last few hours in KL, Harsha, Swapnil and I (since we were taking a separate bus out) hung out at KLCC where we fulfilled Harsha’s obsession of eating some Dunkin’ Donuts and from where I bought cheap-ass ipod headphones and 2 books – We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver and Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri. Currently reading the book by Shriver now and it’s turning out to be an awesome read.

Anyway, got back to Singapore by 8pm Sunday and that was that! Monday was a complete horror story at work. Arrived at work at 7.45am on Monday and left at 4am on Tuesday. Life sucks! Haha.

Birth of Niece

My niece was finally born. I had known it was to be a girl-baby some months previously but my sister had forced secrecy upon me because her husband didn’t want to know and she didn’t want him to know that I knew. The whole, how can father not know but brother in law can know potential controversy. You know what I mean right? Happens so often…

Anyway, she is the cutest little thing ever and she was named Sara. She also gets cock-eyed when there’s a camera in front of her….. Now I know she’s my niece. Apparently my eyes go about in all directions too when I am drunk.
Pictures of her are up on facebook. If you know me, you probably have the address of my profile already. If you don’t, you probably don’t want to see my niece anyway.

December 07/January 08 - Trip to Sri Lanka and India

Was away from Singapore for 3 weeks in December and January during which I went to Colombo to chill with family. What with my grand-aunt having passed away a couple of months previously (God rest her soul in peace) and my sister having married and eventually moved out of the house, it was a bit strange to only live with my mother in the house. But I think it was really great that she and I got to hang out and bond (I use this word loosely because if I were to tell her anything about my personal life, she would lock me up).

Hung out with heavily pregnant sister too and visited her house once or twice.. very nice. Very young-urban-professional kind of place; although neither of them are all that young, urban or professional (ha ha…ooh mean!). If they were, they would not have got married and even if they did, they would not talk to each other or have time to meet up with each other, much less have the time for a baby.

She also hosted a dinner at her place where close family were invited…. Food was brilliant and quite fun to be around cousins after such a long time. So Christmas was spent in Colombo too and I can’t really remember what we did…. Maybe nothing? Surely not? Clubbing I am sure..!Spent time with Ashan, Nishanthi, Inoshi, Hasira, Ashanie, Harshi, Shavanka, Shawn, Afshan, Israth.... a lot of fun. Oh yes, also met Shiny and Kevin in Colombo who were there for Shiny's best friend's wedding. So while Shiny was at the salon at Galle Face Hotel getting her hair, nails done, Kevin and I drank beers by the beach. Was a really good day!

So yes, flew to Chennai for a few days and met Pavs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So good to meet her and gossip and shop and do best-friend stuffz. We had a really fun lunch at Zara where she, being a smart-ass, ordered the foulest long island iced tea. It was terrible and had she had the stomach to finish it, some serious room-spinning may have happened.

I stayed with Dad’s sister which as usual was the most relaxing experience ever. Her house, although situated right in the middle of the city is actually located in a relatively peaceful lane with 2 massive trees in the garden. Therefore this lends the house a very peaceful and cool quality in which you can totally chill out. The only thing I can’t stand about that house, in fact, Chennai in general is that there are so many fucking mosquitoes buzzing about. You only have to bend down when you are watching TV and blindly thwack the area around your legs, and I guarantee you there will be 4-5 blood splatters on your palms. Disgusting? Tell me about it! I experienced that about 20-30 times the 4 days I was in Chennai.

I also had the time to color my hair a brown that turned out to be quite black color at Pavs’ family salon – Bounce! Go check it out. The service is brilliant. Ask for a guy called Murli. He may not be all that cool or glamorous (i.e. gay) looking but he is very good at what he does. Anyway, the brown-black color was super as it hid all my grey! Plus he also gave my hair a bit of a twist and although it only lasted one day, I lived that whole day with a confidence in looking like a trendy fucking bugger.

Cousin also took me out to this place called Casa Picola (correct me if I am wrong) and Mocha which is supposed to be India’s latest coffee-house sensation (see Barista – India’s latest coffee-house sensation circa 1998). Mocha’s built very well; it’s got an indoor and outdoor area with the latter being shaded with a few trees and the furniture being a mix of the traditional table-chair thingi, and swings and big comfortable couches. The menu selection is great with loads of great desserts and really complicated and exotic sounding coffee. But what really impressed me was the selection of shisha they offered. I can’t remember most of them but I tried out something called Nirvana which totally lived up to the rants of how totally superbly awesome it was. Try it!!!!

Went to some clubs – No. 10 Downing, Rhapsody and some restaurants which I don’t really remember and in each of them I just had a really good time. It was so refreshing to be away from work and the pressures imposed on you by the managers and assistants of the world.

Flew to Bangalore on the morning of the 31st of December. Was totally excited about the night since it was the first time in about 10 years that I had spent NYE in India with cousins. And even though some of my cousins did not make it to the Bangalore Club for the festivities, I had a really great time. The highlights of the night: Bacardi Cokes selling for about S$0.80 and a band that pulled off live performances of World Hold On and Gasolina and without any hint of hesitation played all the latest Hindi stuff from Om Shanti Om etc. Brilliant. Needless to say, I got wasted and don’t remember anything after perhaps 2am. But all the same, super super times.

The rest of the Bangalore trip was spent hanging out with cousins – special mention to Manoj, Vanita and Ritika for making it a great one. Places I visited were Couch (latest addition to my family’s portfolio of business ventures). It’s a pub/lounge/restaurant that is situated on M.G Road and serves great food. Again, ate at some awesome Chinese restaurants but I never remember their names…

Flew back to Colombo on the 4th of Jan and back to Singapore on the 5th. That really sucked balls!

Only bad thing about the trip: during the first 168 hours I was in Colombo, 44 of them were spent on work-stuff. Disgusting. It’ll take me some time to get over that experience.

sound familiar?

What is it about sadness that makes me feel like blogging again? I think it is only when I am sad that I feel that talking to my friends may not be good enough, may not make me feel any better. When I do pen things down, while I am typing, I feel infinitely worse, because the most pathetic self-pity will manifest itself but afterwards when I am finally uploading the damn post onto the damn blog, lightness takes over, and I think that is the lightness that will make me sleep at night.

So talking about self-pity, let me talk about the reasons for my sadness. One word: Rejection. I do not think I will ever be at a certain age or level of maturity to take rejection without it causing my mind to spin out of control. It gives rise to a spectrum of unbearable, self-loathing emotions that make me really really bad company to have around.

And to make it all the more sweeter, what if this rejection is accompanied by a declaration of love for another? What if this ‘another’ is one of your closest friends? What if there’s some history between yourself and this close friend? What do you do then? I believe calling this the mother lode of irony would not be too much of a stretch.

Love triangles happen all the time and I have seen my fair share of them but in this case, there is an undeniable link that exists, however, most pathetically, these links that form are reluctant, hesitant, stuck in a world where reciprocity does not exist. Perhaps it’s easier when reciprocity does not exist, because, then, jealousy becomes baseless with no one to blame, and rationality has an easier time kicking into place.