Comfortably dumb

A typical day for me begins with waking up listening to my mother's sonic boom, or in my language it's called 'suprabhatam' or the morning raaga. Wish it sounded more like Pink floyd's see you on the dark side of the moon, for ruining my sleep at 9 AM early in the morning. Reason , i still havn't found anybody who's willing to employ me for the skill which is still in it's nascent stage, or rather, it's still having it's umbilical chord attached to my other skill.

Let's not get into pre-natal talk here, when i am already into my post natal stage ooops!! that would be my writing skills (that's the only thing i am good at) with which i plan to make some money, now i have no idea how am i going to do that....meanwhile i am getting comfortable sitting at home and becoming immune to the subtle and sometimes obvious hints that my folks give me to get my ass up and start earning. It's not that i don't want to work, but i am still figuring out what exactly i want to do....i know it actually sounds like "To be or not to be". Infact it's more like "What to be and What not to be".

Usually morning raaga follows with Follow the leader, where will the reader go then? that's the tagline of worlds largest circulating newspaper brand. The paper is becoming a cult like what Scientology is for Tom Cruise. Page3 has been torn off and made into a movie, wonder what bhelpuri wala's are using these days. Maybe the education times to pack their bhel to the uneducated labourer. Poor guy, had it not been for Page3, his bhel wouldn't have a dose of rising hemlines and dipping cleaveages, and Bobby darling ofcourse. After spending a good one hour in numbing my eyes and brain with printed words written by others, i try to pump up blood into the numb areas, filled with images of Queenie Dhody..is that a name...i guess a horse would be better off with name like Queenie Ghoda. And news about China's moon mission leading upto Tibet. Abhishek's birthday gift and his fiancee are on front pages, while people like Irom sharmila sink into pages which even the Bhelpuri wala doesn't want to use.

A heavy dosage of news on TV about some kid or the other inside a well and people praying for him, coupled with news about making a movie Tax Free as a birthday gift to some hair band welding moron who prides himself with former miss world in one hand and his dad's watch in another. Selling Fridges and getting cards on behalf of his father, where have all mamma's boys gone! Though some saving graces can be found in form of a cow selling chewing gum to a kid fighting mud pit to please his little sister. Thank god for little mercy that shone upon thy idiot box.

After numbing myself with the aforesaid activites, i check orkut , man...it actually changed my life. First thing i notice is which unknown person has visited my profile, it's actually a thrill to know that you can be noticed in the big big world of cyberspace. Which usually follows with me visiting their profile, and checking them out for myraid reasons. And then i finally check my scraps, which is aptly named scraps because they are mostly out there for everyone else to see.

All these things happen so mechanically that, sometimes i have to pinch myself if i live by printed word, or moving images or virtual sanity. These are the three things which consume major part of the day apart from afternoon raaga and evening raaga and some of my own insane thoughts about the world and life in general. I know i am boring, but i guess when life is exposed to vagaries like this, one becomes comfortably dumb.