The Friday after the Dryday.

After wishing a happy b'day to the greatest Ben Kingsley look-alike ever, we hit upon a friday sandwiched between a national and an international holiday. And you ask me whether I have no regard for the father of our nation, and I say, I respect him only when he is excreted from the ATM machine, and yeah last morning(2nd October) when I farted to the morning alarm and slept like a pig, I did thank him.

Each day dragging yourself to that makeshift bus-stop, seeing all those faces; those so called experienced techies, those 26-27 year old deprived virgins with a paunch and a face which explains why?

The freshers who after long last got their joining dates, (they make sure that every single contact on their contact list on orkut/facebook knows the fact and shares the same euphoria) have joined their respective poultry farms, where they will be fed chickenfeed and will be expected to- not just lay golden eggs but donate their legs for the tangdi kabaab on the clients platter. At a later date all of them will be politely culled citing the reason as market flu-ctuation.

They stand there in a bunch decked up in formals, bearing the same glint on their faces, as of their brand new ID cards around their necks. They all look seriously high and agog on the net connection speed, free coffee, and the infrastructure at their respective farms, Wallah!

Then a girl walks by, who has let her hair loose, wet and undone, you think she didn't have enough time but then you look at her carefully done eyeline, and then, you know. As she walks by, paunches get sucked in, people around desperately try to look as if they are oblivious of her presence, and some freshers stare , waiting for her to look back and when she does for a reasonable number of nanoseconds, with their eyes locked up, the ego-battery of the boys begins to charge up (the rate of charging is directly proportional to the hotness of the girl in question), then they look away instantaneously before the girl looks away, triumphant, with their egos charged up, the hair salon waallah might expect a tip the next time around. It's the who-looks-away-first contest and the egos are on the line. Alas it rarely does happen, and we have a sea of ego-low-battery virgins out there, who never get a chance to replenish their ego-pencil-cells.

There are people on the bus stop who carry back packs to office, almost every one of them. And the contents of each bag might reveal the future plans of that particular person. An exotic wordlist or a pale novel (which someone has recommended for enhancing one's vocabulary and comprehension abilities) or a newspaper reporting of blasts and casualties on the streets(dalal/wall street included) or a hurriedly packed lunch box.

While people wait for their respective buses, they watch flashy buses of those MNCs go by, who pay their employees as if there's no tomorrow and then they sigh watching those perfidious bastards, who got lucky, boarding those very buses. Gratefully I am one of those perfidious bastards. :D

Btw here are some of the facebook status msgs I flashed recently:-

1. Oktoberfest on! No wonder the markets around the world are beer-ish.

2.Hump-ty Dump-ty Shat on the wall (street),
Dow and the NIFTY had a great fall!
All the FED's resources and all the congressmen,
couldn't put together $700 billion!

3. To err is leh-man and to forgive is fed!!

4. Does your 'split-personality' has another profile? Does he visit your space here?

Labels: being me