What happens in walajah...

If you have never been on a bharathi velu bus service, you have wasted your pursuit of scientific inquiry(if you had one of those, unlike me). You will be amazed by this bus-the journey, the prelude, the epilogue, the prologue, and whatever other logs you might know of. The magical art of transforming a finite space to hold infinite amount of human resources is breathtaking. I was waiting to board the bus, or at least get the thundu through one of the windows, but I was too slow. I was bested by someone who was definitely the flash gordon of walajah. He had dexterously slipped his hand underneath and got away with thundu placement.

Lesson #1

Don't wait for the bus to empty. It is a mathematical impossibility. You are being deceived by what appears to be an illusion of a constant stream of finite passengers, but your eyes will play tricks on you. You will wait there, you will wait till every ounce of your energy is expended and you are left to puff and pant and finally faint in the bus stand hoping for a free paneer soda. Don't wait. Get inside the instant someone else tries to do. You have to follow the rebel, and not be an idiot pacifist. Fight on the first step, shout on the second because on the other side of the step waits glory, and probably some space to stand. I waited. Rookie mistake. I waited for two villages to alight, and the bus was full again. I was left to ponder. Philosophy and science had abandoned me again.

Lesson #2

Try to maximize your circumference. If you fail to do this, by the commencement of the ride, you will have enough space only to catch the last breath of your life. If you want to get down in the middle and the end point is not the destination, abort your mission.

you. are. not. getting. down. Your resistance will be crushed.

Lesson #3

never ever wear a veshti on this bus. I was praying to the good lord not for a life of vim and vitality, but only that my veshti doesn't slip away in the human mass, because it is the mathematical equivalent of a black hole. It will never be found. Neither will my dignity. Don't ask what I was doing in a veshti in arakkonam.

As I said before, What happens in walajah stays in walajah.

I am smitten. There is a reason why I must live. I have found hope. Someone just hit a F5 on my life. All this because of my sundari. She is the most gorgeous thing in the known universe. She is everything that a man can ever want, and at 18 speeds, more than what a man can want(though why one would need 18 speeds in madras will remain a mystery). My new bicycle is going to be the object of gush in this post. I am really excited even as I type this, because I think this is what is like being on a high. Ah, sundari, my reason to live. to love. A source of happiness in an otherwise decadent life(that's the obligatory disturbed view of the mentally unstable unemployed person).

உள்ளத்திலே லேகரு வங்கொண்ட போதினில்

ஓங்கி யாடித் திடுவான்- நெஞ்சில்

கள்ளத்தைக் கொண்டொரு வார்த்தைசொன் நாலங்கு

காரி யுமிழ்ந்திடு வான்...

(kannan paatu, mahakavi)