Hey, cabbie, gimme a push!

Wouldn't you know it? Driving down the India Gate circle, wind in my hair and (ironically) howling along to Adam Sandler's 'Ode to my Car', when suddenly my little jalopy gives three loud coughs and one long wheeze and dies. I make two important discoveries at this point (past midnight on an empty road), namely, (i) my car's fuel indicator is on the blink after 9-odd years of yeoman service; and (ii) whoever labelled a Zen a 'small car' ought to have their head examined. Try pushing one, all by yourself, a mile or so to the nearest petrol pump. Ain't all that small a car, I can tell you that. Anyhow, l'auto is now properly fuelled (even gave a happy little burp, post hydrocarbon feed) and we're back in business.

I’ve been sort of working on a book manuscript for a while (actually, nearly two years), but never quite seem to finish it. It’s mostly comédie noire, partially based on stuff which has happened to me, and the rest of it being nonsense that I’ve cooked up sitting at my desk. Whether I finish it or not (and whether it ever sees the light of a publisher’s desk lamp) is moot at this point, but I was tooling around with the idea of putting it up in bits and pieces on a new blog.

So, will you lot let me know if you’d be interested in reading it? It’ll be restricted access to begin with, so queue up for the gold key to the crapper, yeah? ;)

(Since a certain someone has taken to calling me 'Crow')