The Uncontrolled Flight
The Uncontrolled Flight

This post is about absolute nothing and has been due for quite some time.

Yes, this quarter has been fabulously busy where I have unsuccessfully tried to coax surgeons across the city to add a couple of spare arms in order to help reduce my workload.My boss though has proved to be a step ahead and has surgically added a middle finger to respectfully reply to my requests for days off to support the galloping shits syndrome I suffered recently. Just when a GM diet induced 2 kgs lighter version of myself was looking forward to a quiet weekend in Goa, my bowels called it a day. The 12 hour ride back after eating, what now feels like the whole aquatic life around the western coast; being scared I might accidentally drop an organ while crapping in the highway restaurant toilet fit for a Gutka king, taught me a lot about fear.

Nevertheless, I find myself “cleansed”, if one can call it that, detox-ed ! Any impurities that may now remain, reside nowhere else than my brain. And yes they will procreate.

A lot of time has passed since my blabbering on the most efficient educational system that is IIN, and I have less than a million things I could write about. But today its only about the three important things bulldozing off my head. Its about the three recent flights.

  1. The world is a much better place with Arsenal pulling up one on my expectations. Arsenal is like my maid. She says she will water the plants when we’re away for three days at Goa. Then I spend each of these days trying to reach her mobile phone to remind her and what a surprise. Switched off ! Then as I reach home and climb out of the elevator, clenching my butt, protecting my organs from a bowel blasphemy in the building corridors, I unlock and step inside the house to notice all plants, well fed and smiling at me, with the maid’s neat and tiny muddy footprints from the balcony out the main door, and I don’t quite know if I should attempt the state of being relieved. That’s how I feel. Happy yet not relieved. Not yet anyway with 4 more games to go and a cup final. A flight to finish?
  2. Whether our country is a better place with Salman behind bars is a beautiful debate media aka moral police wouldn’t warrant. Certainly I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. I wouldn’t wish anyone to drink and drive. I wouldn’t wish anyone to be in a situation where they have no option but to sleep on the street. And I certainly wouldn’t wish anyone has to die in such a manner. What I do wish is our law and order comes up to speed and stays righteous as it should be. What I do wish for is our country free of poverty and illiteracy. And what I do wish to avoid, is a tight slap from the genie who must believe I am a wishful dolt by now. A flight that killed?
  3. The thing I rue missing this week is the telecast of two dudes trying to break each others faces, a fantasy involving me versus the ever crappy pigeon in my car park one day. A legal piece of entertainment, a forbidden fruit may I dare say, and missing it has been a cause of distress no less worthy than watching the Nazar Suraksha Kawach Telebrand commercial. A flight to fight?

In any case…life goes on. Unless one sleeps on the street?

So long.

Written by MRTanmay

Father | Gooner | Above & Beyond Fan | Photographer


  1. Mala hyatla kahich naahi kalala. Blog mhanje swatahach Mukt vichar Sarvajanik ritya
    share karne aahe , baroabaar ?


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