2007

2007 has been probably the most cathartic of all my years. It had the ingredients of the quintessential blockbuster - an utterly difficult and redundant course, love, crazy phone bills, fulfilled cravings of my wanderlusting soul, job frustration, theater, cricketing shame, transhumance, heartbreak, regular blogging as a result of heartbreak, altering senses of fashion, comparatively extreme workout, cricketing history, friendlessness, frustration again - job and present company related, and then finally a little sunny hole of hope to escape the mundaneness of it all. Oh, and it was punctuated with more movie watching than ever before.

The year began with a mistake - a course I didn't need to take whatsoever, but took anyway as if my bank balance was looking too pretty. Salvation appeared in terms of a love affair that was threatening to bloom for a while, but was hesitating like a diabetic with chocolate. Anyway, it bloomed and so did the telephone bills. May saw me sunbathing in Daytona with a few college buddies and reveling in the apparent triviality that is born out of four years of familiarity.

On returning to work, I wanted to be in a warmer environment, and I am not just talking about the weather. The Men in Blue trashed a billion fanatical expectations and the neighbor's coach lost his life. What followed was a personal ban on anything crickety. Lack of exciting hobbies generated a sudden love for theater followed by a lot of theater attendance and even a little bit of rehearsal of a gravely existential role. The role was cut short by an alarming change in zip code but not before I got high secretly in terrific twin religious ironies sitting in the makeshift pavilion of a Pakistani cricket team somewhere among the peaceful mountains of Salt Lake City.

The India trip was the crescendo of the personal life, sandwiched with a beautiful trip to a little village called Tarkarli on the wet West coast of the country, but the destination hardly mattered. True to the sinusoidal nature of the rest of the year began a period of introspection, supposed philosophy and helplessness as the flower was nipped. As the purists say, no regrets and if anything, this period made me want to classify the heart and the mind as senses. Blogging became an almost embarrassing regularity. People other than friends or cousins started reading White Noise, doing amazing things to a hurt ego. Denial saw me going for James Dean slim straight jeans rather than the previous boot cut favorite and running rather than making others run on the racketball and tennis courts.

Mahendra Singh Dhoni did a Kapil with cricketing minors and I will never forget that three way ecstatic, unbelieving hug with the W and Prof as Misbah found the Mallu on the field. Memories of friends who shared the other half of the year with me kept bugging me at times, especially with the gross ability of the new one to small talk. The environment was warm, but still not satisfying, ushering in a certain life altering madness, which will be fulfilled the coming year. Here's hoping all you readers have a rocking '008 and keep coming back to White Noise :)