To add color to a humdrum day one can resort to thinking how conversations might flow if you were henceforth called WHAT. In America lot of the inane greetings and questions would take on a whole new hue. My barista in the morning takes my tea request and wants to pencil my name on the cup to identify my container for the assembly line mixing the drinks. So what is the name? To that the response could be - YES. So she comes back with - I'm sorry - what is your name? So you patiently confirm - Yes. She is now miffed and the line behind me has started growing. So she decides to write YES on the cup, somewhat puzzled that its a name. So being indifferent to the whole exercise I move on and wait to get the beverage. The orders start getting shunted out at the pick up window. Chai for Yes - he yells. So someone looks at it and asks What? So I say Yes. So he goes - really YES? So I ...
Among human crayons I am Brown. Also, my thoughts bounce around and resemble the idea of Brownian motion. This blog is an interface for the reader into this unique jello I call my mind. A mind so fertile anything grows. An agnostic yet curious mind. A mind attempting the Horatian or Kabirism maxim of Carpe Diem or Aaj kareso aab. Rated W I L D for wilfully irritating to large demographic is sometimes the latter - graphic in its descriptions. Caveat Lector!