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Diary of a Workaholic

"Yeah! you are the busy guy", this taunt has somehow become integral part of my life. I hear it all the time,  times when I forget to call my mom for weeks and friends for months or when I fail to receive their calls, or when I have to break my way out of an ongoing conversation,every time it emanates from a different source I feel the predicament of whether to consider it as an accusation or take it as a compliment (I hate sarcasm as most of the times I fail to get the intended meaning so I take the meaning that suits me, so for all those who think I am busy, Thanks :P), and I don't blame them as I have clearly failed to keep my work out of my life. The realization is intimidating, yes, I am a workaholic.The one who can't just shake off his responsibilities. The one who takes his jobs to his bed, dreams about it and then wakes up again with the thoughts of the same. Yes, I am one of those who goes through all the perils to get things don...
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Dilli Diary

"For all its faults we love this city." - The city of Djinns The thought of spending a couple weeks in Delhi in mid-April is something most people would dread and yet, I was brimming with excitement and anticipation. To me, it presented an opportunity to break away from the monotonic work culture of Bangalore and to reminisce about the old days with my college wing-mate in the city I  once used to call my second home. Now, while sitting in my return flight to Bangalore,  I am penning down my memoir of this trip to Delhi.  Heat, Warmth and Hotheads Summer heat was the first thing I sensed after stepping out of my flight in Delhi. This experience completely wiped out whatever tranquil effect was lingering on from the mesmerising aerial view of the city from my flight- ’ The floating island of lights in the sea of darkness' . I estimated the temperature in Delhi at the moment - validated it using the Accuweather app and registered the fact that Delhi nights wer...
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Missing link in dream and reality

"I desire things that will destroy me in the end" -- Sylvia Plath While looking out of my balcony, I can always spot a single star in the sky. Probably with the pollution level in Bangalore , the dim ones are hard to spot. If it was southern sky, I could bet it was Sirius. But I don't know what direction it is in and I am too lazy to make any efforts to find out. Moreover the name of the star does not matter. However, it has a similar symbolic significance for me as green light had Fitzgerald's Gatsby. A dream well conceived , clearly visualised and yet beyond grasp. A dream thoroughly cherished and yet unattained. This brings me to another haunting question. How do people start dreaming whatever they start dreaming about? Frankly, it's Gatsby who comes to rescue. Gatsby's dream incidentally was a outcome of exposure to the girl( I wish I remembered her but I don't even care about finding right now) .   We can't dream of things we cannot envisage. I...
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