A Train of Thought

As I wind up the day's work and get ready to go home, it is not the excitement of watching a couple of Friends' episodes or the thought of the couple of shots of Absolut awaiting me at home that is on my mind. I am instead dreading the long journey back home on the 7.24 local.
Statisticians get orgasms citing the number of people travelling on Mumbai's local trains everyday. The zillions of commuters travelling on trains designed to carry one hundredth of that amount face a formidable task reaching office in the morning and then back home in the evening in a condition in which their colleagues, family and mirror can recognise them.
The Mumbai local during peak hour is like a reluctant hydra headed monster. It moves along slowly, hissing its way into a station, where it disgorges hundreds of sapped bodies, only to gobble up an even greater number of fresh prey. In the sixteen minute morning journey from Bandra to Lower Parel, I undergo a huge amount of emotional catharsis. I ponder over the futility of life everytime someone crushes my toes or prods my liver with his elbows. It is as if Lord Krishna whispers into my ear about the ephemerality of a good shoeshine or a well ironed shirt.And I often find joy in pain, like when someone scratches my arm thinking that it is his or when I get back at the world, wiping my sweaty brow against someone else's hitherto pristine white shirt.

The Aperitif...

Hey world!
Welcome to my little coop in this big bad world. This is a haven for all those who feel (mostly crappy), think (mostly uncharitable things), aspire(to become epicureans) and are particularly sceptical about generally everything. This big blog idea occured to me in a bout of narcissism and I intend to pour out my creative juices to script some really heartfelt caricatures of our lives and times. A heady cocktail i intend it to be, titillating the senses, tingling the palates, making the heads swim just a wee bit. A potent pot pourri of a large measure each of wit and sarcasm, a dash (not too much though) of logic, stirred vigorously in that most versatile of all machines, the human brain, with a hint of weltschmerz and an underlying taste of sensuousness, served in a glass of felicitous language...(phew! that spiel does show that I am in a sales job, doesnt it??)
My takeaways? creative satisfaction, a vent to the fire within and of course, your comments...