No, not the Kiefer Sutherland show. 24 is the number of text messages I’ve been getting everyday for the past 2 weeks from random lawyers, asking me to vote for them in the upcoming Bar Association elections. Said messages are irritating, to say the least, and pop up at the oddest of hours (mostly at 2 a.m.), and are corny as hell. A few choice examples:

“Each of us r angels with one wing & we can fly only by embracing each other. KINDLY SUPPORT XYZ FOR VICE PRESIDENT…” (Considering most lawyers out here are men, this little pearl of wisdom brings hideous images to mind.)

“SMILE is like a SIM CARD and Life is like a CELL PHONE. Whenever U insert the Sim Card of a Smile, a beautiful day is activated. XYZ FOR JOINT SECRETARY…” (So, will you pay my cell phone bills if I vote for you?)

“Best Friends Listen 2 each other. XYZ CONVEYS HIGH REGARDS 2 U; CONTESTING FOR MEMBER EXECUTIVE…” (U’re my best fren since wen?)

“Soul of Democracy lies in effective participation. Please Bless, Vote and Support XYZ for MEMBER EXECUTIVE” (A constitutional theorist! SO KEWL!)

“To know ones ignorance is the best part of knowledge. XYZ FOR JOINT SECRETARY…” (I know I’m ignoring this message, and am thoroughly enjoying the sudden influx of knowledge.)

“Those who joyfully leave everything in God’s hand will eventually see God’s hand in everything. XYZ FOR JOINT SECY.” (Has this guy ever heard of Sigmund Freud?)

Clearly, lawyers need to be kept far, far away from bulk messaging sevices.

Axl Rose wasn’t kidding when he wailed about everybody needing ‘some time on their own’. All I seem to be hearing these days is, “Give me some time”. “Am I going to get paid this month?”, ask I. “Give me some time”, says the office accountant. “Are you going to fix my laptop?”, I ask my AMC guy. “Give me some time”. “Can you gas up my car please?”. “Give me some time”. The list is endless, keeps becoming longer each day (and sometimes late at night), and is beginning to get on my nerves.

Anyway, this is a chicken and the egg debate, so I’m only venting for the time being. Post 1^st November, the more grating of these questions will (hopefully) be answered by, “Right Away”.

In other news – my move to Bombay is now imminent, and, since life seems to be coming full circle as usual, I’m going back to my corporate whoring days. Call me a sellout, I don’t care anymore. I’ll have to justify time spent on the job (or not spent) to a higher God (boss-to-be), but at least I’m going to be paid well, and won’t have to constantly chase clients to pay up. I'll be away from the family, will have people to hang out with, won't have to worry about power cuts....and so on.

The move also means a drastic lifestyle change. No more spinning music at the local pub. No more watching movies alone (with the induction of Ms. Firefly into self’s life). No more zipping along the roads at high speeds, because, well, it’s BOMBAY. The only zipping around one can do is in the wee hours of the morning, slaloming through all the potholes.

Also, no more blogging. Yes, that’s true. I won’t get that sort of time, plus the new firm has a strict policy about free speech, and unfortunately, they already knew I had a blog (just wait till I find the snitch). So, till I figure some way around this little obstacle, this post, and the few to follow, will be the last you lot will hear from me in a while.

Since this page may have to be shut down shortly, here’s some shameless promotion for a band of lads who truly deserve it. For people who love rock n roll, the new band on the block to tune in to, is The Circus. I’ve known these kids for a while now, and have jammed with one of them. They’ve ripped across the Indian gig circuit over the past two years, have featured on Channel [V]’s LaunchPad, and will soon be releasing their first record, From Space. Do give them a listen, kind people, because their music is really a lot of fun. Oh, and also, take a gander at The Constellation Project.

Stop.

DISNEY BUYS OUT MARVEL FOR $4 BN

DR. FINKELSTEIN TAKES OVER ACADEMY

Logan devastated – claims will shave sideburns in depression

“X????? Goddamnit!!!!”

I’m a fundamentally healthy person, except for my bad back, and that I sometimes wake up in the morning dearly regretting what I had for dinner the night before. And, since many members of my clan are doctors of one sort or the other, hospital visits and the like are things that happen to other people. For me, proper medical advice is but a phone call away (or has been until now at any rate – who knows what’ll happen when I move to Bombay?). My ailments are sorted out over the phone, or the kindly uncle/aunt/cousin drops by for a visit.

I’ve now done roughly ten years of unhealthy (and sometimes semi-cooked) food from roadside stalls, pizza outlets, and the pots and pans of assorted roommates and single friends, who think they can cook. I’ve done many nights of cheap and not-so-cheap alcohol, and far too many nights of secondhand smoke. I’ve done too many 5-meal-a-day days, and have gone hungry for 2, sometimes 3 days in a row. Exercise has been limited to walking from hostel to the classroom block/library, and the odd game of volleyball (in lawschool) and walking from my office to court and back (now).

Not a particularly healthy lifestyle, as you can see. But y’know what? However ill I may have been in all these years, there’s nothing that couldn’t be solved by the 3 As – analgesics, antacids, and antihistamines. Ergo, there was never any need for me to look up what problems my body may have been going through, or was at risk of going through.

But hang out with women on a regular basis, and it’s a whole new world of pharmacopeia. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been duly instructed on the following:

- Pap smears;

- Rhinitis – allergic and otherwise;

- Deep vein thrombosis;

- Cellulitis;

- Vitamin B-12 deficiency;

- Ectopic pregnancies (!!); and

- Assorted allergies and antibodies.

All of this with detailed verbal ‘memos’ on symptoms, cures, tests etc. Informative, I’m sure, but I’m still trying to figure out where a lot of the above fits into my (i.e. the male) health chart.

Oh well, information can’t really hurt, can it?

Also, I do not take kindly to people calling me up at odd hours and demanding from me names of morning-after pills. I don’t run a frikkin pharmacy, capisce!!!!?

Delhi’s always been my one true home (and despite what follows in this post, that will always remain true). Not a four-walls-one-roof-we’re-all-a-happy-family-within sort of home, but someplace where I can walk blindfolded, secure in the knowledge that I’ll always get to where I want. The city of my birth, my childhood, my adolescence and my adult life (well, most of it); where I’ve seen beauty queens parade down main roads on the tops of decked-up minivans, and where I’ve seen people being burnt alive inside public transport. Where I’ve traveled in a Mercedes, a DTC bus packed with seventy human bodies, redolent of sweat, fear, happiness and sorrow, and an air-conditioned subway train, all in the space of a few hours. Where I’ve died many lives, just to be reborn the next morning with the milkman ringing my doorbell. No matter where I may live, or may have lived, my soul will always roam within the walls of Jahanpanah, Khan Market, India Gate and Connaught Circus.

On the other hand, I have my home within my home, which is not a particularly endearing place at the moment. Le Corbusier, architect and planner, once said that a house is a machine to live in. I agree with the man, at this point in time. I’ve been feeling like a worn out cog in this machine, and I need a refurbishment.

Melancholy thoughts, indeed, since I’m faced with the prospect of leaving it all behind, and not knowing when I’ll return to take my place in this city’s destiny (though I certainly hope it will be soon). On the other hand, the new city brings freedom, friends, love and certain other things sorely missing in my life, so, yeah, bully for that.

As for me, I hocked my brains, packed my bags and headed west – Dave Mustaine

Victoria watches and thoughtfully smiles. She’s taking me to my home – Mike Portnoy.

Amen