So first, and foremost, I wanna commend you guys on your survival skills, and your blind optimism, for being back to read this blog, even after the torture of the last post. Because, seriously, I dun think even I can get myself to read that post again,(I mean in spite of the fact that its like written by me!!!). The very rules of narcissism categorically talk about the ability to love and admire your own creations, irrespective of their crappyness. So a very genuine sorry to all of you.
Meanwhile, I've just returned from Delhi, it was my mom and dad's 25th anniversary, on the 18th. There was a nice large family celebration, for which I made the sacrifice(-sniggers-) of a few classes.
So the train journey was interesting. I reached the station about an hour early, and spent time reading, Chetan Bhagat's one night @ the call centre ( I know i'm a bit late to be readin that one, but mom hadn given it a great review, and the cover didn't look appetizing either - dun start with the " Don't judge a cover by its book" or somethin like that please. There was basically no drivin force for me to read it earlier.) The train arrived, and I reached my berth. The T.C. (read ticket collector) came lookin for " [surname] Saheb". When he saw me, he quickly dropped the Saheb. The guy distributin the blankets and the pillows didn't really wanna give it. So i specifically told him, I want it, and he pointed to the blanket lying open on my berth( obviously used) saying, there was my blanket, and he'd be gettin a pillow.
When I cribbed to the uncle sitting on the next berth, bout how they aren't even givin fresh stuff, he jus told me to be thankful, that I even had the blanket, as they were short on them. So I took out my book to read. I saw some knobs near the seat, and tried turning them around. When nothing happened, I asked uncle if that was the reading light. Uncle said, no it wasn't. I asked where are the reading lights located then. Uncle visibly smirked and pointed out that this was a 3 tier AC. No reading lights. I made a mental note, not to embaress myself anymore that night. I removed the little amount of dry crumbs left as a gift by the previous occupant of the blanket, and pulled it over me. I'm not too great on hygiene i guess. Its a survival skill i suppose. Its the only way I could have switched from the Reverse Osmosis (R.O.) water purification system at home to the water-taken-from-the-matka(earthen vessel)-using-a-steel-glass-while-filling-which-every-person-dips-their-dirty-hands-in-the-water system here. The trick is to not think about it.
Eventually, I reached Delhi. The second name of luxury is silence( the first being luxury, but of course, you probably did know that. Please forgive me.) So now when I reach home, I feel like I've gone to some awesome luxury hotel. (No, my house isn't that great. Its just the relativity of it. The comparison is with one single room in Kota, in a house whose owners themselves just occupy one room out of the 10 they own, and therefore wouldn bother to make it nicer even by Kota standards - not that its too bad by these standards - but jus wouldn make it any better). My sis had travelled a few thousand miles(from U.K.) and my cousins were here too, so had a pretty brilliant family time all together.
PS- Leave a comment if u left the previous post in the middle of your read please? It'd be cool. :P
Meanwhile, I've just returned from Delhi, it was my mom and dad's 25th anniversary, on the 18th. There was a nice large family celebration, for which I made the sacrifice(-sniggers-) of a few classes.
So the train journey was interesting. I reached the station about an hour early, and spent time reading, Chetan Bhagat's one night @ the call centre ( I know i'm a bit late to be readin that one, but mom hadn given it a great review, and the cover didn't look appetizing either - dun start with the " Don't judge a cover by its book" or somethin like that please. There was basically no drivin force for me to read it earlier.) The train arrived, and I reached my berth. The T.C. (read ticket collector) came lookin for " [surname] Saheb". When he saw me, he quickly dropped the Saheb. The guy distributin the blankets and the pillows didn't really wanna give it. So i specifically told him, I want it, and he pointed to the blanket lying open on my berth( obviously used) saying, there was my blanket, and he'd be gettin a pillow.
When I cribbed to the uncle sitting on the next berth, bout how they aren't even givin fresh stuff, he jus told me to be thankful, that I even had the blanket, as they were short on them. So I took out my book to read. I saw some knobs near the seat, and tried turning them around. When nothing happened, I asked uncle if that was the reading light. Uncle said, no it wasn't. I asked where are the reading lights located then. Uncle visibly smirked and pointed out that this was a 3 tier AC. No reading lights. I made a mental note, not to embaress myself anymore that night. I removed the little amount of dry crumbs left as a gift by the previous occupant of the blanket, and pulled it over me. I'm not too great on hygiene i guess. Its a survival skill i suppose. Its the only way I could have switched from the Reverse Osmosis (R.O.) water purification system at home to the water-taken-from-the-matka(earthen vessel)-using-a-steel-glass-while-filling-which-every-person-dips-their-dirty-hands-in-the-water system here. The trick is to not think about it.
Eventually, I reached Delhi. The second name of luxury is silence( the first being luxury, but of course, you probably did know that. Please forgive me.) So now when I reach home, I feel like I've gone to some awesome luxury hotel. (No, my house isn't that great. Its just the relativity of it. The comparison is with one single room in Kota, in a house whose owners themselves just occupy one room out of the 10 they own, and therefore wouldn bother to make it nicer even by Kota standards - not that its too bad by these standards - but jus wouldn make it any better). My sis had travelled a few thousand miles(from U.K.) and my cousins were here too, so had a pretty brilliant family time all together.
PS- Leave a comment if u left the previous post in the middle of your read please? It'd be cool. :P
Comments
"I know i'm a bit late to bea readin that one, but mom hadn given it a great review, and the cover didn't look appetizing either - dun start with the " Don't judge a cover by its book" or somethin like that please. There was basically no drivin force for me to read it earlier."
-Yea pretty late! 'Ts just okay. Chetal Bhagat only knows how to spice stuff up. And the 3 mistakes of my life is bad. I didn't like it. Haven't read 2 states! 5.some1 remains to be his best!
"Leave a comment if u left the previous post in the middle of your read please?"
-I read the whole darn thing and when I "finished" I was glad 'twas over. Don't repeat. Lol :P
This post made me lol. The "crumbs left as a gift" and all that haha :D
And oh you're so right about the 'trick is to not think about it'.
And I haven't read any Chetan Bhagats :P
Except maybe you could try reading his first book. But I'd say skip that and go watch the movie. It's good. :D