After a few abortive attempts I finally commit myself to make a post today. There isn't really much to write about though. I'd been more than busy with myself of late. Didn't feel like looking around. Stuck up quotidian pettyness, as they say. But however mundane it might seem on the surface, isn't there a story being interwoven around us everyday? And when I try to pursue the story around me, life doesn't seem so boring after all. Well, now you see why I don't get bored so easily. (I can sit alone for hours without doing anything, and yet not get bored. You can call it lazyness, but I don't care. I'm rather inspired by Garfield, you see.) So next time you see me sitting like a lazy bum with that blank expression, don't get misled; I might as well be contemplating something profound.
Well, last Sunday I was working in the office (yes, on a Sunday!) and suddenly it struck me how spooky the whole floor looked like. The whole place was dark and dead silent. And being fertile on imagination I started thinking what would it be like if I find something lurking behind me, breathing upon my neck, whispering in a nasal voice. I even imagined myself being trapped inside a dilapidated haveli. But however hard I stretched my imagination I failed to see the lady-in-white-saree-candle-in-hand-singing-a-haunting-song sequence. But I haven't given up as yet. Maybe next Sunday I'll have a better luck.
Now, can't you see a story here?
Who says working on Sundays is no fun?
No comments:
Post a Comment