What are the chances?

'For there is nothing so imperfect, so helpless, so naked, so shapeless, so foul as a newborn babe: to whom almost alone nature has given an impure outlet to the light of day: being kneaded with blood, and full of defilement, and like one killed rather than born: which no one would touch, or lift up, or kiss, or embrace, but from natural affection. And that is why all the animals have their udders under the belly, women alone have their breasts high on their bodies, that they can lift up their babes to kiss, to dandle, and to fondle: seeing that their bearing and rearing children comes not from necessity but love. 
-plutarch.

This year, so far has had a spectacular beginning. There have been some tremendous changes in my lifestyle, that I am beginning to understand and appreciate and throw them into the dustbin:

I turn my bike to the right and lock it, as opposed to doing it from the left.

The wallet goes into the left pocket, instead of the right.

The quota alloted for idlis is raised from Rs 20 to Rs 25.

The message that I do not like podalanga has been very clearly, unequivocally, carefully reported to amma. (And duly rejected, but that's different.)

No more amrutanjan. Only zandu balm and iodex.

The calls I get on my phone have a significant improvement in quality-previously, they were automated voice messages from my service provider about low balance, now they are wrong numbers. atleast human.

New saloon. Same old haircut. (Let's face it, there is only so much they can do with what little is left on top.)

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I know. You are all confused. I am too. I ask myself the same question every now and then. How can something like this happen to me? Perhaps you don't know the whole story, but a long story short-I was selected to play cricket. I am torn by this sea of conflicting emotions that appear to engulf me and destroy the very person that I was, that I want to be. How, can I be selected? If we do a root cause analysis, we find that the answer is quite simple:

No one else was available.

Ok, then again, how can I shoulder so much responsibility, to be taken into confidence at such a short notice? This has raised some very serious self-esteem queries that were so dormant from all that chakkara pongal and thayir saadham, and the occasional paruppu usuli, and the paal payasam and the...oh, wait. where was I?

Anyway, I decided to go meet my destiny. I was standing there, with all the props necessary for the 12th man, the substitute, with the water bottles in had and an annoying cheering noise asking people to go for it, and god knows what that 'go for it' is.

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You would be interested in knowing about my performance. Ah, yes. we always have to know how well we do, don't we? We need some comfort in knowing that we are a little better than some, and that we fit somewhere on the normal curve-only to the right of the average line. The exceptional ones. The talented lot. Oh, no, you cannot settle for the averages, or anything less than that. That would just shatter that already fragile self-esteem and ego, that we so shamelessly and pointlessly cherish...Ah, anyway, I fielded.

Yes, I fielded at fine leg. I saved two runs. I am now short of breath from all that adulation people foisted on me for such an excellent piece of...oh, what crap.

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I'm going to give some simple answers for some simple questions:

Why did I not write for such a long time?

Because I am between unemployments, and I am walking a real tight rope. Well, not physically, a little metaphorically. Actually, not even metaphorically...So, yes, I don't understand what I am saying right now.

Why is the world such a mean place?

Because everything is based on law of averages.

Why is the mount road in such a bad shape?Or Indian politics as such?

Pass.

What is karma?

A bitch, according to a trying-to-be-hip song.

What have the people done to my beautiful madras?

Destroyed it. Its gone. 

Why am I trying to do a cho and write q&a columns?

I am bored, and so are you.

What is the point of our existence?

chakkara pongal and rava idli, as opposed to perfomance and stupid notions called 'ambition' and 'pride'.

You only say that because you suck.

Yes. ok. moving on.

Why did it take 10 seasons for ross and rachel...

Shut up. and get out of my life.

புத்தாண்டு வாழ்த்துக்கள். 


Cheers.

ps: performance, do a cho, yes. very funny. I will laugh when I am in high school again.