The week that was

Could not write for long for a variety of reasons, one being that the net connection was screwed up to my room and I don’t like to write my blog anywhere else.Okay,okay pretty lame excuse but I have got to offer one. Now to business. Since I was offline and unable to pen-in this case type, my thoughts only two events have stuck out .One was Holi, the festival of colors and another was a farewell party

Holi is always a cause for fun, but not so much if you are not sharing close living space with others, like in a block of flats. So while I was at home we just smeared a little powder other, wished each other and bathed the colors out. Now let me describe a typical Holi day at our hostel. After breakfast, bands of roving revelers, armed with drums and colors would tour each hostel. To the thunderous beat, colors would be smeared, .most of them grease based which take a thorough rubbing to get rid off. But that is only the beginning. Buckets of water are brought from the bathroom and indiscriminately splashed. Soon the corridor floor resembles a confusion of colors, along with faces, hair and t-shirts. With most of the colors finished and water splashing over the next phase is stripping. This starts with somebody pulling at his neighbor’s sleeve along the seams until the water soaked threads give way. The aim is not to just ruin one sleeve, but to rip the whole garment to pieces. Once this starts, a domino effect kicks in and soon there is no one with a whole shirt or tee on his back. But there are no frowns, only smiles and a lot of wishing and backslapping. After this most of the people head of to one of the hostels that is hosting a common mud fest and come back all muddied. Personally I skip this part. This time I also happened to be in a royal jam. I did not have soap and all the shops were closed. Here I was running around with all the hues of spectrum on my skin and head and face and stuck without any means of getting a decent bath.Thankfully, I managed a spare piece finally.

In the afternoon we had to eat out. But we had to walk a long way before getting an auto. Stuffing me with chicken, bird flu is hanged, along with mutton and prawn I ratcheted up an individual bill of record 191 bucks. It took all my willpower to drag myself to my room.

Another out of turn event was the farewell. This is an annual event organized by the student of each state to bid goodbye to their respective seniors leaving college. Gujarat being a dry state these gatherings take place on the beaches of Daman which is prohibition free .So the upshot is that everybody drinks .And some seriously passed out guys also give vent to their emotions by a sob or two .Lots of hugging and consoling takes place at the end of the day, with many admitting to their worst kept secrets. Heavy duty nostalgia kicks in on part of the seniors and reminiscences are all over the place, with every body promising not to forget one another. Some chaps get too drunk to eat while others vomit everything they have eaten under the influence of alcohol. Quite a waste of good food and drink is what I say. Speaking of myself I am no drinker. But this time I went over the limit, drinking everything except whisky and, of course, champagne!!!Surprisingly the cocktail in my belly made me hungrier and I did best what I do with good food-attack it with gusto. We hung around the beach till the burning sun sank below the horizon and got back to college by about midnight. A quick cold bath which meant some calisthenics under the gushing faucet and I was ready for bed. Zzzzzzzzz…!!!

Bank account blues

What is the least amount you ever have had in your bank, assuming that you have one. Rs 100?.Rs 20? Rs 10? If you are shocked at practically accused of being a pauper, you need not fret. Turns out that there is someone even below your level in the liquidity chain. And that worthy is yours truly. Before you begin to ask as to why I have bestowed this honor, even if dubious, on myself I have an iron clad reason. That is the ATM receipt of my transaction which said that my account balance was, hold your breath, Rs 0.06.Which means that on 25th day of the the first month of the year of our Lord 2006 I had precisely 6 paise, which might have been of some use to me had I been living a century ago.That is why I consider that day to be historic. But God, I can live without more such momentous events, if it pleases you. As an ordinary mortal, I just won’t be able to take the strain.

Thankfully God in heaven, for once seemed to answer my prayers and through my parents have kept my fiscal condition out of the woods. And for that I kneel down and pray from the depths of my heart, soul, mind, cockles and practically any organ you can think of. Amen

P.S Oh and by the way I am thinking of preserving that receipt so that people won’t think that I am spouting codswallop.Will be a good thing to show to my grandchildren on a rainy night when everybody have told their share of ghost stories. But the way I see things are heading I don’t much fancy their understanding what the hell paisa is that grandpa is babbling about

D.I.Y. barbering !

I will ask you a very simple question-is it possible to cut your own hair. Apparently it is aesthetically impossible, as a certain Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi discovered to his dismay. Miffed by the refusal of a white barber in SA, he took a pair of scissors to his hair and tried to give them a trimming. As he writes, though he had fairly succeeded in the front, the rear looked as though they were chewed through by rats. Of course he soon went bald and matters rested there.

Now you might be wondering what relation does these events which occurred over a century ago have with me.Plenty.Let me give you a background. Like Gandhi I was losing my hair. And feeling a bit insecure when all my friends make it a fashion statement to keep shoulder length hair. Among the many myths related to hair one is that shaving your head stimulates growth. Even though I am a skeptic I gave it a shot .Went and shaved off my head and on top of that also acquired a French cut. Reaching my digs I was surprised when many of my long locked companions complimented my new looks. One of them even said that the bear would be okay but it was a shame I could not keep my bald look without frequent visits to a barber. Of course the idea is financially unsustainable. He ended with a wisecrack that it would have been nice if I could shave my head myself and save expenses.

Now that set me thinking. Why can’t I do it just because others don’t? After 4 days when the fuzz appeared on the head I figured that now was the time to test my hypothesis. I lathered up my fuzzy head just like hoe you do before shaving and applied the razor. A sweep through the foam and my scalp was glistening. A few careful strokes and the front part was nice and tidy. Now came the back. Feeling by touch I managed to scrape away much but was sure that I had left out patches and could feel myself like how the father of the nation felt when he was squinting before his own shaving mirror. Finally with the help of a chap I completed the finishing touches. Of course I nicked myself number of places, but as they say, the experience was worth it. Shaving, in the ordinary sense of the term was a breeze. When I sprayed after shave the head seemed to be on fire. This was about one and a half month ago. With practice nowadays I can almost shave my head, front, back and the sides almost eyes closed. And thankfully no more nicks.

Seeing me perpetually bald made me face the same question –how many times do I go for a shave? And when I reply with a straight face that it was my own handiwork and it had been months people refuse to believe until somebody who has seen me doing it has corroborated the story. And I have been getting a lot of comments on the look-ranging from looking like a baddie in the movies to an x -rated star. Some even ventured to say it looked sexy, though I don’t believe much of it. But the only reason I have kept a bald head is that it feels damn comfortable. Try it for yourself. It feels like you have a weather vane on top of your head. And the wind is cool. I don’t think I will ever go back to being normal. Being bald sits just fine with me. Oops! Haven’t shaved for 5 days.Okay, first thing in the morning I am gonna lather myself up.

P.S Just as I promised yesterday I lathered up and got a nice head and cheek shave and am as good as new.Another 20 bucks out of the hands of the trimmers.