June 25th, 2008 Roshan
Someone on digg linked to this incredible artist who posts on Flickr under the name The Searcher. I just can’t stop browsing through his work, the words accompanying the painting as much a part of the entire artwork as the drawings.
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June 16th, 2008 Roshan
Hello World, I’ve been waiting for the chance to see your face.
There’s a jingle that starts that way, where have I heard it? It’s stuck in my head.
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June 8th, 2008 Roshan
Do you know that you can’t play football on the beach over the weekend any more, not even on Fridays? There’s no problem with frisbees, cricket or volleyball, but football is simply not allowed - and I suppose neither is rugby. You know, the beach used to be like the golden age of Man: written law was needless where none oppressed, the law of Man written in our breasts. The one last bastion of freedom, where you could do almost anything you want. Now, it’s like any other place, encumbered by meaningless laws, unwritten and enforced by megaphone and wooden stick.
Update: Apparently, Adithya is responsible for this; his confession is in the comments.
I would be incensed if it weren’t for the fact that now I have to drive just a further 3km. While on driving, my attempts to emulate hypermilers has led to partial results - I think I get something like a kilometre or more per litre out of the car. Must work on the gear shifting, but this old vehicle jumps even when you’re in the same gear. It’s embarrassing.
There are funny films. I like them. I saw one today: Death at a Funeral. Worth the rent.
Posted in Madras | 18 Comments »
June 8th, 2008 Roshan
It happens to the best of us, at the best of times, when things are looking good. A regular snafu. There’s nothing wrong with messing up, it happens all the time. What’s important is handling the aftermath, and easing back into your normal life. That sounds easy on paper all the time; but when your self-esteem rests completely on your estimation of the work you do, you live on the edge of a wet piece of paper.
It’s hard to remember all the times things went according to plan when you drop the ball in a team game. There’s failure staring you in the face, and you can’t tear your eyes away. Strangely, it’s not simply losing that bothers you, it’s letting your team down. And that snowballs.
Thanks Keith. I can analyse now.
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