It’s a catch 22 situation, you sit at your workstation, waiting for the boss to get up and leave for court with you, but she just refuses to, the clients have called up three times and the matter is about to start but the boss refuses to leave, she sits there and every request made for any action is responded by contorted facial gesticulation.

I wonder what to do? Anyways she woke up on the wrong side of her bed this morning and any form of communication with her is riddled with danger. She has been snapping at all like a rattle snake that’s been stepped on.

So much more to tell, but so little to write about, the hair is growing yet again, a wee pony returned this morning. I have a new turtle named Gimli ( all while violating the Wildlife Act,) therefore attracting penal consequences, super!!

My house slowly and surely turns into a wee zoo, a wildlife sanctuary, that day aint far when my neighbours shall refer to it as the Mehak’s (read Noah) ark.

Mind continues to wander to the day that never was, its all strange, winter does bring with it a constant nostalgic thought process

Love Thy Neighbour.

Those eyes say it all, disapproving looks, their heads shake each time I pass them, words uttered, its all about me.

I am THE neighbour from hell, a role model from Satan’s backyard, that day aint far when my neighbours will cover the eyes of their kids every time I pass them.
Loud head-banging music pours out of my apartment at all times to come, all while my God fearing neighbours play gospel songs and bhajans, I have roudy drunk friends who sit in the patio and create mayhem from hell.

I almost sport a ponytail, I abuse clients and threaten cops, my friends and me are quasi alcoholics, who raise the bar a wee higher every Saturday night .
I don’t answer their calls, I don’t heed to their requests to turn down the volume at 3 am, I don’t attend their prayer services every Sunday.

I also don’t have a picture of an Indian God at my front door, what I do have instead are empty booze bottles lined up like trophies from a kill.

I am from their perspective the Devil himself, I fight with them over parking, on one occasion we even trashed a car parked near my house, who had allegedly brushed against a friends car.

It aint funny but its fun, when I watch their kids run for cover when they see me approach, maybe this has something to do with the time when I held one of them upside down when he tried teasing my dog.

Their parents don’t mess with me, ( its at times like these when I love my profession or atleast the threat factor that comes with it, more like fuck with me and ill make sure that’s the last time you fuck with anything)

Yea I am a great neighbour.

St Anger!

I wonder what’s wrong? Is it the weather? Is it the flu? I dunno, but all I wanna do is punch someone, hit someone, the anger within is real and pure. It needs to be unleashed, someone needs to be a victim, I need to see blood, I need to feel the pain, I need to hear me knuckles crack, the sound of flesh hitting flesh shall be music to my ears.

I need this to pass, I need some sleep I guess, but I am stuck at work, and I have a hearing coming up in an hour and I so don’t want to be a part of it.

We won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won…..

The sun sets over Delhi, the haze hangs low, orange hues streak the skies, but for me only one thing matters, India’s victory over the cry babies bad loser’s good for nothing cheaters the Australians.
It’s a victory of good over the evil, right over wrong, men over ‘monkeys’ (monkey is not a racist comment ), fighters over cheaters and more.
India have avenged their overtly wrongful defeat at Sydney earlier this year, where the mother fucking aussies cheated their way to a victory.
I love cricket and I respect good cricketers, but the aussies deserve nothing but shyte rubbed across their faces, every one of them.
To be honest all aussies are bastards descendants of criminals and sore losers.
Long live Indian Cricket and I do hope Ponting their captain is fired and Symonds drowns on his next fishing trip.

382 is the magic figure, the number of runs needed by Australia to win the 4th test match, which would enable them to square the 4 match test series and therefore retain the border gavasker trophy.
I spent the whole of last night and early this morning in sheer anticipation of what lies ahead. I don’t have access to live cricket but I am following it very closely on my laptop on the best cricker site in the word www.cricinfo.com.
It’s a tough task on a fifth day pitch but its not impossible, for India its imperitve the aforementioned number stays out of reach of the fucking aussies, who have cheated and brought disrepute to the game all while climbing the ladder of success.
They deserve to lose they deserve to be beaten for what they did at Sydney earlier this year. For India and as a cricket loving Indian there is nothing more important than to avenge that defeat and retain the trophy.
As time stands right now, we have claimed two aussie wickets and were close enough to getting the third had it not been an umpiring error.
I got my hands folded and a constant prayer on my lips.
Lets hope India wins this…

Cant get over the hangover.

Hangovers, ah well they are a work of art, they are a form self-inflicted torture, it’s a direct outcome of a night of debauchery, a night of indulgence.

Its not like I cant hold my drinks, I can to be honest, and over the last few years every time I have neared the point of no return, the point where your head spins like a top and the world resembles a vomit bowl, I have stopped, my body has over the last years shouted and told me to stop and I have obediently given into the needs of my aging body.

But last night was different, there were no signs, I kept drinking till I heard a bang in my head, it was actually my head hitting the floor.

And before I knew it I was gone!!, my head spun and the urge to let it out was overwhelming, I cant remember much, just the fish in the tank looked prettier and the light from the fish tank was too painful to look at.

And like it always happens, the sun rose, bright and beautiful, but my head, lord my head, it felt like a lead ball being pounded by ironsmith

I literally had to drag my sorry arse and my heavy head to work, where I sat popping pills and drinking tea, coffee and juice just to get rid of the hangover, and frankly I have been fighting a loosing battle all day

What have I learnt from this? I don’t know, maybe quit drinking, quit mixing whisky and wine? I don’t know , only time will tell

A quick quip on litigation

The problem with litigation (at the higher levels of the judiciary), atleast from where I stand, is that even the smallest issue snowballs into this out of control monster, which is hard to tame at times.

The sun sets over Delhi and I am back in the office, its been a long but not so fruitful day, was handed a really badly drafted and researched draft to argue this morning, despite my efforts to salvage the case I doubt we will get favourable orders.

At the High Court the constitutional challenges to the penal section penalizing adult consensual gay sex is coming to an end, with today being the penultimate day of arguments. I am glad we are doing rather well with the matter and it shall all be over tomorrow. (at least for now, till the matter is appealed to the Apex Court)

On a happier note, India has done decently well in their final test match at Nagpur against the biggest wankers in the world the Aussies, and Lord Sachin made a century after a long time.

The evening ahead looks as boring as ever; there is some research, some drafting and lots of reading.

It’s well past midnight and the bouts of boredom haven’t subsided or miraculously disappeared, I am still as bored as I was this afternoon.
There is a file that’s begging to be read, a client’s life kinda depends on it, but I am just too bored to even look at it.
There is a lot of editorial work left on the magazine, which I refuse to touch, ( I am already a month late on the up coming issue and yea the boss threw a fit about it this afternoon),
I cant complain of a break or a vacation, I just took one after 11 months last week, it helped I agree I was all charged up till the weekend and now I am a spent force.
I guess there is too much on my plate yet again, am juggling between research for the boss, her clients, her cases, my cases, my clients, the national conference, the magazine and the umpteen papers I write for her every week.
Frankly I am dreading tomorrow, I have two matters in the family court, one in the high court and one in the Supreme Court ( as for the matter I had been waiting for last two days , it has been adjourned for Lord only knows how many years ) ( the last time it came up for hearing was in 2000, when I was still in second year of my law school).

Obama Overdose

And there is no end to the Obama victory, its getting a wee grotesque to say the least.
My fellow Indians cant get enough out of his victory, its crazy how America ( never really an Indian ally) gets a new president and the Indians are behaving like they won a million dollar lottery.
C’mon, look within, look at our politics, rather than spending your life and time cheering Obama, look at our guys a bunch of wankers all of them
Do something about our politics rather than overtly rejoicing about another nations political development.
Moreso I think its more about being cool, I am an Indian I am cool I support Obama. A whole hoard of bull crap
What the fuck get a life you guys

There are days

There are day and then there are days I wonder under which category does today fall in. I guess its just one of ‘those’ days, where I am bored beyond comprehension.
I have a matter pending in the Supreme Court, but its being passed over since yesterday and waiting for it has just driven me mad, borderline psychotic to say the least.
There is some pending research, which is as boring as milking a dead cow, and some drafting which is worse than skinning a cockroach.
Lord Help Me

Obama wins-But lets not go overboard please

Woke up this morning and surprisingly the first thing I checked were the US election results, at 7 20 am IST Obama still needed another 70 seats to walk into the White House.

But by the time I got into work Obama had won, Big news I agree, but a bigger deal I aint sure about.
Yes I am abreast with the world around me and I am more than glad that the tyranny of Bush is over, but why is everyone around me going over board with it.

I wont deny I am happy, a black man who supports the hippies is in the White House but it aint the biggest deal is it now?
My suggestion hold on to your horses, let Obama take the rein and we shall see what the new day has in store for all

Goodbye Iglen

So, here I am, writing my first post on my newest laptop ( it still hasn’t been christened), iglen is history. It lived a dignified life and was a great companion. I will miss cleaning its white body everyday just to make sure it aint stained for all times to come.
I have come a long way from using a Compaq (my first laptop named sweetie ) which was brutally murdered in the backyard after it gave me hell for 2 years, to glen my trusted IBM which was eaten alive by red ants to iglen who walked into the sunset holding its head high after having served me without any glitches.
A new day has dawned and so has the new shiny silver macbook pro and yea I am excited.

Choices

If only, choices were as simple as they seem to be then life would be a walk in the park, its hard sometimes not to end up doing what you really wanna do, the constant struggle between the heart and the mind, the good and the bad.
All these choices, the slippery slope of life, its just way to hard.
Its there you can see it, but its al forbidden. Its just a wee crazy

The week gone by..

So much has happened over the last few days that its hard to put all down on a piece of paper.

To say the least the trip back home was rather refreshing ( albeit stressful, with the boss and clients calling me every hour and finally my drive back to Delhi at 4 in the morning, with a near sick dog by my side)

Back at work, feels like shyte, there are way too many deadlines coming up et al.

But it is more about yesterday that I feel the need to write, Anil Kumble a.k.a Jumbo hung up his boots, Indian cricket just lost its greatest statesmen.

It was indeed a very sad day for me, which I duly spent crying over a smoke and a glass of scotch.

Moreso, Lewis Hamilton became the world champion, despite Massa winning his Home Grand prix all thanks Timo Glock pulling up on the last corner to allow Hamilton to pass and win.

I wonder how much he was paid, but at the end of the day no one deserves to be a champion in this form. From where I look at it, Hamilton is a cheat and a totally undeserving world champion. If the Italian Mafioso is reading this I do hope they kill both Glock and Hamilton.