Overheard

Anu : "Ajja, I know you are much older than me but can you be a little like me this year? Look at me, I haven't gone out of the house since March because it's risky. Aayi had cough and fever some days ago. If it was Coronavirus, I may have also got it without showing symptoms. But I still won't go out. Both you and I are high-risk people. Promise me that you'll wear a mask whenever you go out and you'll not shake hands with anyone. And tell Ajji that I won't listen to a single thing she says if she doesn't listen to me!"

My grandfather's shradhdha, which is on 25th of July, is making us all concerned now. 

My crime series are increasingly resembling fantasy stories. The kind of complex characters - first criminals and now the detectives themselves - that they have is now bordering another realm. Do such people really exist? 

For Old Times' Sake!

I sometimes sit through tacky movies just because they remind me of my childhood.

A Long Haul

Thanks to our continued abysmal testing numbers, the peak is still invisible. And people on the roads have become daredevils making it difficult for others to venture out. It seems like IT industry will be run out of homes for the foreseeable future.

When two people discuss my 'child-like innocence' (I have no idea why that should be a topic in the first place) , I wish they could be considerate enough not to tell me about it. I don't know, they think they are being nice to me by letting me know but it's very awkward, when they are my colleagues. 

To want, or not to want, that is the question. 

Sweet Somethings

Deadwind Season 2 coming on July 1st is one of the sweetest things I've had in some time. The other thing is Mundappa mangoes, of course. Biting into these fleshy sweet mangoes, one at least momentarily feels that the world can't be so bad, after all. 

I wonder how many of the old faces I will see when all this is over. I mean, like the girls and boys at MK Retail's counter or that lady with a hearty smile at the library, the welcoming faces at Cakewalk, my tailor, the lady who buys my old newspapers, our ironing folks, the men and women at Marriott... I hope I get to see them all again... 

Closing a Passage

MK's farewell today. A mammoth Zoom farewell  from people mostly from Mumbai, the people associated with him in the present and the past. Everyone seems overwhelmed by the sheer number of people. As I listen to the endless anecdotes, stories and praises, I first feel envious and then a little peevish. Mumbaikars were always his darlings and he theirs. What business is it of mine to wonder what he's thinking right now or what he'll do from tomorrow? I've never met him in my life, I have not even one story to tell and suddenly I seem like a gate-crasher. I begin to drift and as if he's reading my mind, MK brings up our project. Of all the projects he's been associated with in his 33 years of career, he singles out ours as the highlight and without naming anyone, heaps praises on us. The Bangalore fangirl goes teary-eyed all over again. 

I braved his warningish message that he was not a social person and wrote some long sentences on WhatsApp. I've never done this before and after a point, it looked very strange and I stopped. No more messages now. He told us his life would be agony tomorrow onwards because he wouldn't know what else to do. Since he means what he says, I hope that doesn't happen and he finds something else to busy himself with soon. 

Stories Revisited

Anu is all for stories these days. So we've been telling her childhood stories of our own, her brother's and her own. She remembers that she wanted to become a biscuit when she grew up and she thinks that was damn silly of her. 

Anu is pretty convinced that my mother gave me none of her creative genes and instead directly passed them on to her. If I didn't know at least some bit of sewing, she would've considered me a totally wasted generation. Anyway, I was telling her of the times my mother worked as a tailor's assistant. In those few years of my early teenage, my mother tried her hand at many occupations, like stitching of school uniforms, working at a tailoring shop and finally settling in a printing press. And I don't remember feeling happy about it or being helpful to her willingly. Anu was excited hearing about her Ajji's exploits, though. "Wow Aayi, Ajji had such an adventurous life! I feel so envious of her! I hope I can do so many things when I grow up!"... She went on like that and made me all the more ashamed. 

The Newspaper Normal

Holding The Hindu in my hands after what seems like a decade. 

I wish 'I don't feel like working today' could become a viable reason for a leave. Last Friday, I was still depressed about MK so I wanted to take off. I guess I could've been honest with RR but there's always a chance that he would call and try to cheer me up. I was in no mood for that so I told him I was sick; I had a headache and body aches. But I have to be careful when I lie like this because most often my body immediately conjures up these illnesses. And true to form, I got a headache, severe body aches and a fever as bonus. On my birthday. This just isn't fair. 

Down

Now I have fever. Headache, chills, fever. Damn. 

Back to Binge

I was very happy that Netflix had nothing more to offer to me and was looking forward to the continuation of this sanity when MK's mail came. I have returned to binging in the last two nights as if there is no morning. He's killed my appetite for work. All kinds of work. It's not like what he's written is something new. P and I and in fact RR and I talk this so regularly, making us feel all the more like a bunch of idiots maybe, but coming from MK and the words he's used... It's like finally I've run out of excuses. And we've got a king for the club of idiots. 

Body Blow

MK is leaving. This time for real. He wrote a farewell mail to some of us in advance and it's heart-wrenching. I want to say so much but I really don't know how to reply on that mail. In short, it feels like there's no hope anymore. Without giving a sermon - he hated long calls - he had taught us so much that whenever I saw something to the contrary in subsequent years, I always complained to him mentally and imagined how indignant he would've been. It's confirmed now, this place doesn't value the right people. 

When he left exactly three years ago, AG had put me in a similar situation, though I was not this aggrieved. I had gone to meet him and he had spoken entirely on personal matters, as if we were old friends. Of course it was as one-sided as ever and I was silenced more by this new-found kinship. He'd talked about so many things - like how he and his wife were struggling in their newly married life, what with having a baby so early, no support system, health problems of his in-laws, South Kanara, Surathkal(he's 6 years my senior in college), how his peers in the company were doing better than him and he always felt a little left out and undervalued, his salary compared to others, wanting to try new things before it was too late....at one point I felt sorry that he had to unburden himself in front of a stranger. Maybe it was easier. And he'd ended the conversation with many advices to me. What I should be doing in the near future. Now I know that he was right.