Grahana Day

Today was fairly eventful, scientifically and otherwise.

I stumbled upon the best deal in history.

Being the longest and most complete eclipse of the Sun I have seen was exciting in itself. That apart, once I got bored of taking pictures of it directly, I ventured to fish out my once-used binoculars from the viscera of my home (which ended successfully). Several attempts at powering up my astronomically challenged digicam with my binoculars were made, all in vain. Or at least, it would seem so until I realized that the combination was great for macro photography in low light (w00t!).

The binoculars were put to great use nonetheless and earned my brother a few skeptical looks from the mallu baays playing cricket in the waxing and waning afternoon sun. The grahana witnessed nobody else from the apartments - the ajji downstairs declined the offer and the baays seemed more interested in the binoculars than in the eclipse, which I suspect they were unaware of.
Great family fun, all the more because my brother, whom I generally consider to be a disinterested sort of fellow, was quite enthusiastic about the whole thing.

A great dinner at the new Malnad restaurant across the street sealed the day.

BestBuy

I have discovered what I think might be the ultimate value-for-money buy in the history of commerce.

The Shave Brush.

Think about it.
At a mere Rs. 20, a shave brush is bound to last for at least as many years if not more, only getting better with use! The absence of annoying fading blue bristles reminding you that your brush needs replacing is only a bonus.

O Faithful low-priced companion, I bow to thee.

Persistence of Vision

The landscape slides beneath him
The sky stays marvelously pinned
To a canvas unseen by human eyes
Whilst he gazes from within
A frame, inertial
Inertial, it seems.

In his state of pondering
A vision was just but wrought.
A momentary breach of vigil
An intrusion of thought.

The landscape yet slides beneath,
But the speckled sky now swings
On the canvas unseen by human eyes
Whilst he gazes from within
A frame, inertial no more
No more inertial, it seems.

Demographics

Ah, finally! The painful procedure of applying is done!
Now I wait.

Manjunath

Due to the untimely collision of several circumstances, I find myself travelling between home and college more often than a sane student shouldin his winter vacation. This one particular journey back home I find worthy of mention.

My enthusiastic entry into the homeward bound bus was somewhat retarded by the overwhelming stench of rotten feet and vomit. There was also of course, the customary bawling four year old that usually comes free of charge with every bus ride in the country. Sources cite said four year old as the reason for the unbearable reek. The bawling was however counteracted by the equally loud but way cooler new-age indipop of the religious, though tech-savvy Sabarimalaite, who had conveniently gone off to sleep while his laptop dealt us its soothing night-time music.

The headrest smelt of stale cockanet oil, which surprisingly, and thankfully kept the rest of the stench away. I found the seat covered in both cigarette ash and mallige flowers, much to my bewilderment. The bus itself wasn't as bad - the wheels felt only remotely circular and like they were carved out of rock, which I believe was the culprit behind the periodic beating my butt was absorbing. Each of the ladders leading up to the berths were secured by one screw at most, and were very happily rattling along, apparently to help soothe infants and otherwise annoying four year olds.

That apart, the windows were absolutely unmoveable, to let in the five degree Western Ghat air. To keep my nearly frostbitten toes from falling off, I was forced to open my bag and shove my feet inside. Yet another noteworthy mention is my first bus-time bedbug, which was rather unfortunate to be jettisoned somewhere in the midst of the Ghats.

Manjunath provides a refreshingly new experience to even the most seasoned of travellers, so please do make sure your next bus ride is a Manjunath ride!

Filthy Pig

He wakes up with a jolt and wipes the sweat off his brow. He reckons it was cough roughly ten miles away that woke him up form his normally hefty slumber. Was it a dream? Or was it really there? He wastes no time pondering upon these issues, neither does he raise any more. Jumping off his bed, he bolts out the door, away form the source of the sound.

He runs as fast as his legs can carry him, all the while confident that his every move is being tracked. He continues running. He knows it's gaining on him, and all of a sudden his chest clenches. He's nearly sure it's here. A sneeze. Affirmative.

Anxiety takes the chequered flag, and kills him. The virus, it turns out, had to exit soon after it started, due to technical difficulties.