Wednesday, May 23, 2007


My never-ending struggle against anything that runs on the principles espoused by my Physics book continues. I have made my peace with power cuts eversince the battery powered inverter died, leaving me with the option of purchasing a brand new battery worth 8 grands. Thank you very much, I prefer my pitch black existence and mosquito bites.

Then the PC decided, let’s eat up a compact disc – the mini kind which contains that one exclusive software you need to install to make the webcam work, given by daddy dearest at the airport terminal, hoping I will run my own live webcam service. Hmm… that Chinese girl did make a lot of money running her own Truman Show, but I think she was in the habit of taking her top off and it surely didn’t make her daddy or the communists happy. So, the PC was disembowelled and the CD-ROM was extracted but the tiny CD remained stuck somewhere between unidentified dark matter and the green ICs -- which by the way seem harmless but do a good job pricking your fingertips. Well, the CD has been safely extracted but the thingamajigs are acting like a 1001 piece puzzle and refuse to fit back in its place while the monitor continues to advertise the absence of a drive. To hell with the PC, I don’t need it! (except for the music … missing your summer love JT muaaah!)

I planned a quiet reading-and-movies weekend to overcome the absence of broadband internet and music. But alas, while pretending to read Murakami, I ended up picking up the damn Harry Potters again and got entangled in the obvious bloopers inherent to the whole owl story. I mean, if no one can find the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, how come all those owls were so easily reaching the Grimmauld Place carrying regular-ass mail like Hogwart’s booklist and even the Ministry of Magic’s summons for Potter boy? And, if Voldemort has been apparently intercepting the owls, he should have easily found out where the Order of the Phoenix was holding its meetings and hiding Sirius. But, no – the owls keep hooting and shitting and the wizards keep eating and cleaning. What shit, it’s about time I cut through the Potter propaganda and I think I am just about to break free from it. I think I prefer being a coke drinking muggle and pumpkin juice should be restricted to patients fighting hepatitis C.

Coming back to the anti-technology movement, I fell asleep debating the feasibility of owls replacing cellphones, when I was woken up by the most horrifying ghostly sound ever. Something, very evil and probably supernatural was perched outside my window and screeching its way to the Grammies. I ran – for my life - woke up my cousin and told him there is a ghost in my room. He ran towards what I presumed was Meatloaf trying to sing and there was nothing. It was the AC, letting out a last cry for help. It died, with a few shrieks and a loud hissing.

So many losses in a succession can be quite overwhelming and so I lay in the heat of my room all of Sunday afternoon, staring blankly at the fan which had not rotated in the last 3 hours – again thanks to Chacha Nehru’s skewed vision of Hydel-powered electricity generation and the lack of it. Now, when I think of it, there is no other consumer good left to die (except the TV and the home theater, but I don’t think they were ever alive to start with).

Suddenly, it hit me, I will have to start taking showers in the absence of air conditioning and that would be the end of world as I know it. Perhaps, there is a dead owl stuck in the AC and it won’t cost me too much to get it fixed. Unfortunately, the AC guys were ready to take the white angel away and replace its dead soul. They would have done precisely that, had my current bank balance proven itself worthy of paying for the revival of the Peltier effect. But, it was time to face the perils of modern consumerist existence and for luxury to prevail. So I just paid them to mercilessly remove my mom’s AC and fit it into my room and folks can deal with the dead AC if and when they visit. Life is a breeze once again.