Dreams are renewable. No matter what our age or condition, there are still untapped possibilities within us and new beauty waiting to be born.

-Dale Turner-

Wednesday, 22 October, 2008

Clearing space in the head

If the office felt like tundra earlier (Clean and I have always considered relocating polar bears and artic foxes here for conservation) it now feels like Pluto. Jelly legs, chattering teeth and raging viral fevers just added to our merry work atmosphere.

Adiga's magnum opus, which was lying unread at my desk for weeks is now in hot demand. Too many mixed reviews and reverse snobbery makes me stave it off. I am meditating on a book about cats.

At home, I am no longer the favourite grand-daughter, honestly when was I? But grand pa has been seething at me ever since I started telling him off to run his own errands around the house - like to the water filter.

It has been two-and-a-half years since his femur-joint bone surgery and high time that he is up and about the house. His paunch could also do without a few metres. I don't care if he laments loudly to the maid about lack of respect in today's generation or acts a bit stiff, I am gonna teach the Air Force man a trick or two of his own.

And the only good thing about my delirious fever this week is that it kept folks at home too busy with my temperatures and pills, so busy that they forgot the "you over-work" bhajan and "erratic schedules" polambal.

And at moments like these, when the sun sneaks out after the showers and bright light streams through the windows, I know I love my family the most.



My nephew is a slothbear