To tell you the truth I am not that old. In times before, I would've been a mere few years over the limit. In the current state of the age-psychology I am just a few years away to the magic (and disliked for god-knows-why) number. I know you are not here interested to read this. I know that you most probably inadvertently tumbled in here for no fault of yours. So. Let me get to the point of the post, if it does have one.
I used to play tier- volley-ball in school. I was ok at it, relatively speaking. I was in a proper team and all that (It's a different matter that we didn't win much). Other than volley there was a spot of cricket (aarrghhh, I hate that game) and a bit of badminton, where some trained champs that I had for friends mercilessly smashed my egos to pieces. On a side note, there was one day when, one champ smashed another's awesomely light, all-graphite Yonex racquet that cost a small fortune even then. The owner, surprisingly, held his own and resisted smashing the breaker. Damn it, there I go off-tangent again.
So I used to do some active sporting in school. That vanished once I got into college. For one, the college team was no place for a frail, unaccomplished player like me. I don't remember any active sports/games during those four years. After that, when in my new job, a few of us got together to play weekend volleyball or cricket. That must've lasted for a few months but once again given up on. Beyond this, it was an occasional game during a team outing or such. Until this weekend that is.
Folks in my apartment community have been playing some clubhouse cricket on weekends. Our club-house is supposed to host a badminton court but right now it's just one big four-concrete-walled room. So every Saturday and Sunday a group of anywhere between 3 to 10 people gather around and play some bat and ball. After promising to join them quite a few times (and obviously not waking up before 09:00), I finally delivered on my word. This Saturday I played some no-net badminton for a half-hour. On Sunday played some cricket from 07:00 to 08:00 before totally giving up. I can't bat for someone's life or bowl for mine. Though I was in the zone for a couple of rounds, it soon became apparent that I am just not cut out for cricket. That and I was beat tired too. Thankfully no aches and bruises. I missed the touch-wood incantation and the thanked joy was short-lived. By evening I could feel my muscles pulling up tight and not the good kind of body-building tight. My back was sore, my shoulders were sorer. This is what sudden activity after a long hiatus does to you.
Anyway here I am (on Monday afternoon) boring you to death and still nursing some aches. Nursing them like a bad tumbler of blended whiskey - you don't really like it but you can't dump it. I am hoping that with continued persuasion it all becomes a nice, warming scotch on the rocks.
So we moved into "our" new apartment. "Our" in air-quotes because every well-wisher reminds us of the air-quotes thanks to ICICI home finance. Remember how Matt LeBlanc used air-quotes in Friends? Hilarious within genuine quotes, I say.
Nope, to be honest, moving into our new apartment did not keep me away from blogging. Weekend mornings are spent making plans for the evening, while waiting for the god-incarnate mason/painter/plumber to turn up and fix up long pending niggles. Of course for the tasks to be long-pending, it is obvious that the god-incarnates don't turn up. Weekend evenings are spent lazing around and disposing off of any plans that were made. I just didn't blog. No reason, no "writer's" block.
Being "our" apartment, we now have the boon (or bane depending on how you look at it) of decorating it however we want. This means weekly ideas and daily vetoes. Let's paint it another colour, says missus. The off-white/cream-whatever makes the house look spacious, says I. Let's do textures, says missus. Watch for cracks and seepage, warns everyone. Let's get a used sedan, says I. "Are you mad?", asks the missus. I just had to slip in the last one :-D
For now on the backburner are the plans of a bicycle for me, a scotterette for wifey and a car for us. On the car front, I am a great admirer of the Nano. No, I wouldn't get it for myself although it's my favourite weapon to frustrate the missus. I am waiting to see how the Nano changes things on the road. There are many theories for and against the Nano. One theory that I hope turns true is that "With a large section of the two-wheelers replaced by the Nano, the average size (length, width) of vehicles on the road will become a little less skewed and ultimately mean better flow of traffic." Ah, for some inkling of road sense in our country!
On the immediate list are the rest of the furniture (I am gonna miss you, space). We've successfully bought and slightly burnt a couch already. It's a nice piece, priced double what I wanted to pay. Snooping around for furniture has brought us in contact with a lot of price ranges and one arrogant old man in FurnitureWala, Koramangala. With his octogenarian glare, the gentleman said - "All our furniture are expensive. Starting at xyz onwards." Holy, mahogany.
Both of us are hooked to "How I met your mother" and "Scrubs". "According to Jim" and "Different Strokes" (yeah that old blue series) are our not-so-bad side orders. Yep, that's what's up! Couch potatoing! And it's fun(tm)!
