The supply chain

Nod in this life

What’s it with auto rickshaw wallahs and their imperceptible nods? Do they mean yes, or do they mean no? The average mumbaiikar would say, they mean no. Auto-wallahs have their own agenda, and their own list of places to go to. Ask them about any place, and the answer is no. A new fact I have noticed is their way of saying no. When asked about a place they don’t want to drive to, they will stare off dreamily into space, as if wondering “When will this pesky person stop asking all these infernal questions and leave me alone?”. If prompted again, they will glance at you and give the aforementioned nod, or speak slowly as if weighing all the options. The answer, at the end of it all, is no.  One character I came across yesterday, gave the nod. I stood there, unsure. He stared at the night sky, and then gave me the nod again. When I impatiently asked ” Will you go there or no?”, he spoke as if it pained him greatly to speak at all, and said ‘nooo’.

There is a joke about a person who asked an auto-wallah -

“Will you go to place A?”
‘No’.
“Will you go to place B?”
‘No’.
“Place C?”
‘No’.
“Okay then, where will you go? Take me there.”

I rest my case.

Kyunki..

Indian cricket is like an Ekta Kapoor serial – the cast keeps changing; and it ’s still at the stage it was when you gave up watching it several years ago.

Just noticed

Humanity, and its progress on the earth, has been marked by ages, you know – Iron, Ice, Bronze….

Our age (specifically, in Mumbai, and maybe to a certain extent in India) can be called the Renaming age. A close second comes , the flyover-ization age.

What are their stories?

~ The little girl of about 5 at the bus stop, writing away with intense concentration on a diary which must belong to her father sitting nearby. After all, no one so tiny could possibly own a diary so large.

~ A lady waiting for a bus, redefining fashion. Saree-clad, she had a bulging cloth bag perched neatly and symmetrically on her head. For all the world, it looked like a jaunty and successful, if unorthodox, hat.

~ There is a section under a flyover, which I usually cross over on my way home. There is always a homeless vagrant there, who has claimed that place as his own. Yesterday, I found him sweeping every inch of his turf, cleaning out every piece of trash thrown by the passersby,and collecting it all at a point outside ‘his’ section before lying down to sleep. Dignity of the homeless? A job as a sweeper in some lifetime? Fastidious habits even when thrown on the road?

I wonder..

A nick of time

From the dashboard, over drie years ~
180 posts
501 comments
3 categories
25 tags

From my observation ~
10 odd readers, out of which,
4 regular ones (Thank you folks! )

Boring stats over, now for some fun. Written by SEV. Yes you can throw the brickbats at him for all the crap you read on my blog; he made me start blogging.

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For the longest time, if I have needed something really random, who do I check out? Alice. Random drops of water? Check. Random pointless observations about life? Check. Random conversations? Check. Hell, one of my more random fantasies happened over IM with her. To my memory that one actually started because I wanted to say that the joke was so bad I died laughing about it. And ended up exploring the outer confines of losing corporeal form. Ah well.

This is not to say that she is completely off-her-rocker. I would say that she is only slightly so. It takes some lack of being off-your-rocker to be able to note down the more smart ideas. I would link to the correct category here too, but dear darling Alice does not believe in categories, only in WordPress.com tags which are non-specific to her blog.

I’m not really sure what her anniversary post should be like. Aping her randomness is a little hard, and talking about the way we met, and talked, and chatted, and so on and forth seems a little… clichéd. Blabbity-blah, it’s been _ years, blah-blah-amazing-fun, first-meeting-blah-blah-moon-launch, blah-no-contact, invasion-blah-Elvis is back-etc, yes-minister-blah-British-humor-blah, and so on and forth.

That passage may actually be partially true too. Did that seem convincing?

Dammit, I just found the tag for her specific concoctions. And that para was illustrating my point so well too.