Hello world

It’s easy to start a blog. It’s difficult to continue writing. Forcing yourself to write just to keep your blog alive is as tough as calculus. If you say calculus is easy you get blocked from my blog, even if it means my readership declines from 3.5 human beings to 2.5.

Bullet points make life easier, especially if you only plan to rehash old stuff. You pull a few random thoughts together and voila! You have a post ready.

• Paiyyan is finally in college. The saga is worth at least 4-5 blog posts so I don’t want to waste it on a bullet point. Maybe I’ll feel less lazy tomorrow and decide to write about this famous OMR college that gives you the ‘quotation’ on a bit paper. Or this world renowned, research supporting, foreign students enrolling, AC bus running college that conducts an entrance exam, then ties up with a coaching institute for training students and then finally sells the seats.…it could go on.
• Kutty is at that stage when she and her pals can’t seem to discuss anything else. Leg pain, pimple, which day, she gotaa… I’m seriously sick of this talk but don’t object. It’s their way of coming to terms with something that affects them in a very significant way.

Some updates

• Krishna Jayanthi brings out the best and worst in me, as I’ve oft said in this space. This year round the uppu seedais had a party in my kitchen. Following huge bomb-blast noises there was oil all over the walls, the platform and the floor. About 250 ml of oil was dripping from the electric chimney. I cleared the mess and finally wondered where the seedais were. A good many were stuck on the shelves near the stove. I’m still fishing them out like bodies from earthquake debris – from under the wet grinder, beneath the sink, behind the microwave, and on the cutlery shelf, a good 8 feet away from the stove.
• Remember this aunt of mine who had four daughters and none to love? After P’s death Aunt was shuttled between the homes of the other three daughters. They all wanted P’s wealth for some reason or the other. They all had such great problems in life that they couldn’t look after their nearly-90 mother. My aunt, being the woman she is, dumped ‘em all. She gave away two-thirds of P’s money to an orphanage and kept the balance for herself. The orphanage has now given her a room where she’s fed and allowed to breathe till the time comes.
• Whatever happened to Bt brinjal? Are we eating them now or not?
• For all my claims of being networking sites-unfriendly, I’m quite sore about not having gotten a Google Plus invite. Paiyyan had three invitations at his disposal and refused to spare me one. His wife gets none of my jewelry.
• This syndrome is getting worse. At one point I feared Paiyyan would be shifting to a hostel and I would be stuck at home with two unfriendly aliens. Thankfully the boy stayed back.
• I’ve become such a veteran that I’m actually getting outsourcing orders. At any function I end up tying one for at least 2-3 mamis and mini-mamis.

My dad used to say the test of a writer lies in the last line. He would recall how his friends would write fantastic essays in the exams and then conclude them with a lame “Thus we see…India is a democracy / Indian economy is agrarian/ etc etc (repeat phrases from the question)”.

I’m therefore very self-conscious about how my pieces end. But now I’m truly stuck for a decent punch-dialog-last-line. Excuse me.