Moments in Time

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Best Out-of-Office automatic email replies

Just had to post this:

1.I am currently out of the office at a job interview and will reply to you if I fail to get the position. Please be prepared for my mood.

2. You are receiving this automatic notification because I am out of the office. If I was in, chances are you wouldn’t have received anything at all.

3. Sorry to have missed you, but I’m at the doctor’s having my brain and heart removed so I can be promoted to our management team.

4. I will be unable to delete all the emails you send me until I return from vacation. Please be patient, and your mail will be deleted in the order it was received.

5. Thank you for your email. Your credit card has been charged $5.99 for the first 10 words and $1.99 for each additional word in your message.

6. The email server is unable to verify your server connection. Your message has not been delivered. Please restart your computer and try sending again.

7. Thank you for your message, which has been added to a queuing system. You are currently in 352nd place, and can expect to receive a reply in approximately 19 weeks.

8. Hi, I’m thinking about what you’ve just sent me. Please wait by your PC for my response.

9. I’ve run away to join a different circus.

Finally this one takes the cake: :)

10. I will be out of the office for the next two weeks for medical reasons. When I return, please refer to me as ‘Lucille’ instead of Dave.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

The girl next window

There is a Khirki chaat shop beside my house. Khirki, loosely translated it means window in English. And today is a 24 hour CITU bandh. Loosely translated, that means no office, and nothing to do the entire day, apart from sleeping and staring blankly at the idiot box. Not complaining, just plain bored.

Lots of people out today. Chevys, Mercs, Karizmas, Toyotas and maybe a glimpse of a few BMWs; females in strikingly "bold and beautiful"(not too sure about the beautiful part tho', but couldn't resist the pun!) clothes, men with a fat hip-pockets looking like they have a tumor growing out of their butts; ice-cream wallas, balloon-wallas, chana-wallas looking earnestly at the all-wallas to shell out a couple of hundred bucks for their stuff. Kids crying their hearts out for the oh-so-indispensable bhel without which their adolescent lives may remain incomplete; wannabe biker dudes, with their silencer-removed bikes zooming towards the gang of PYTs not there only for the mirch in their chaats; aunties shouting at there nephews/nieces for not going too near the fearless stuntmen,while secretly trying to avoid gazing at the charmingly bald uncle from next door. The crossroads eternally jammed with the madding crowd, and the this/that-wallas flitting from car to car, trying to put extra butter where required. Looks like Kumbhamela scaled down for the metro. The funniest part: I saw a horse-drawn fittan only seen in front of Victoria at the early dusks; maybe it's also a joyride out here.

Yet the door doesn't open. A door long kept locked eternally, after some rowdy, para goons, maybe after a joyous, spontaneously rippling day like this, wanted to culminate their intensely spirited evening, by looting away the last shade of fading pride, from the washer-woman staying beside the Khirki shop, in a state of drunken stupor after a gala evening. No colours, no noise, no wallas there.

The door remains bandh.Forever.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Here without you

I guess I'll just wait. Wait n watch. And stop cribbing about the past, as for that matter, even the present and the future.

I hope you'll just be there for me. Seeing me through.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

The only thing constant is Change - II

Its a different feeling, letting go of all your inhibitions. Its silly; you feel so out of place and foolish once you've done it, you feel like kicking yourself in the a*se, you feel like you have been exposed, robbed of all your private emotions and scattered them all around for everyone to see, feel, touch and comment on. You feel like a kid who has wet his bed, and couldn't hide it from his parents in the morning. Yet again, you have to do it sometimes. Because you want to feel robbed. Because you had to feel exposed. Its like a primeval sadomasochistic instinct to feel raped and looted of all your deepest desires, lurking in the forbidden corners of your mind.
Its even tougher when you know that you're mature enough not to do it, and you cannot justify that action by simply blaming it as a childish whim and naivety. You injure your confidence, your ego, your self-belief, your logic and your I-am-fine-Thank-you life. Maybe all things really cannot be put into that equation of life, where the R.H.S is a definite integral of fame, fortune and money over time. I feel lost and confused.
I guess I can see a light at the end of this tunnel. I can see the see the shadowy walls with green lichens pass by me in motion blur. I hope I can reach that light, eventually. Till then, it seems I will just have to read into the twisting shapes of the lichens.
They will tell the story of my life, one day.