He shall win the battle of battles, he shall own the stars He shall command the light of […]
30th September 2012 was the date when I completed my first half marathon. I said ‘completed’, not ‘ran’, because I’d mixed running with walking like one dilutes scotch with soda, where the proportion of latter keeps increasing as the hours progress.
Nonetheless, it was no mean achievement – freaking 21kms is no evening stroll! More so when you consider that my preparation for the race was nothing more than Justin Bieber’s vocal training before a song recording.
Issued in public interest: If you’ve missed the first half of this post, then please go and read it to understand the context of this one (not that it would make much of a difference)! Here’s the link: http://oh-wit.com/2013/12/17/half-marathons-the-first-half/
Welcome back after the interval. Hope you enjoyed the popcorns. Hope this bad joke doesn’t make you as giddy as those anti-smoking advertisements. Gosh, I need to stop blabbering.
It was my brother’s wedding last week. Yay! And, it was a typical Punjabi wedding. Now, if you are a Punjabi, you will react with another ‘Yay!’ But if you are a non-Punjabi and have any idea what a Punjabi wedding entails, you will most likely react with an ‘Oh Dear Lord!’
All Punjabis (me included), consider themselves to be the poster child of enjoyment. As we see it, we are full of style, joy and love. However, for others, we come across as North India on steroids. Our clothes & jewellery are brighter than the sun, and we pretty much live to eat, drink, and make merry instead of the other way round.
Anything that’s Punjabi has to be grand (read ‘over the top’). This wedding was no different. In terms of drama and glitter it could give a royal wedding a run for its money. So much so that it made me, a proud Punjabi, stand up and shout, ‘What the hell is going on??
I had seen a few family weddings before this, but the difference between being a guest and a host at a wedding is as big as being a visitor at a circus and being the animal performing in the ring. I quickly realised that the madness was too much to soak up without bloating up and drowning in the sea of weirdness. So I decided to live tweet the ‘event’ to help divert my attention and thus get through the three-day saga with my sanity intact. This is how is panned out:
“Good morning, Sir!”
Her voice was oozing energy and enthusiasm much like that of a child heading to her favorite swing. To me it wasn’t anything more than the harsh sound of reality waking me up from the glory of illusions.
This looks dark, scary & endless; yet it feels familiar. Have I been here bef … ‘Excuse me! […]
Varun 