Just 'Cuz

Ok readers, today's post will be an exercise in stream of consciousness thinking. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the term, it's kind of a literary convention describing the deranged path your thoughts tend to follow when you think about something. You know what I mean, one minute, you're sitting there writing an exam about cellular function, then all of a sudden the cell as a factory analogy they taught you in class makes you think about Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. Two hours later, whether or not you remember anything about what a Golgi apparatus does, you most certainly do remember how hot Johnny Depp looks in eye-liner and mascara and you've got a sudden, inexplicable craving for a Nerds rope. Totally insane, but makes for very entertaining reading.

This morning I had a memorable stream of consciousness episode that I thought I'd share. I had a playlist running on Youtube when the song "Anjali Anjali" from Duet popped on unexpectedly. Apart from bringing on a rush of great childhood memories, the song started me thinking about the vast ocean called love. That got me thinking about cute marriage proposals, which got me thinking about the cliche one that everybody always does: proposing at the Eiffel Tower.

Now readers, I ask you, what the hell is so romantic about a triangular hunk of iron plopped unceremoniously in the middle of a city? Have you even been to the Eiffel Tower? I have, and I can confirm that there is nothing even remotely romantic about being 986 feet above the ground, unprotected from 90 mph winds that make it impossible to see out of the hair whipping painfully about your face, while you can't help but think that the cables of the only elevator you took up there, which seem to have last been serviced in 1889, could very well snap on your way back down. Being on the Eiffel Tower will definitely help bring you closer to God  as you will most certainly be praying to get back down safely. Bringing you closer to your significant other, not so much.

Thinking about the ineptitude of the Eiffel Tower as a setting for expressing one's everlasting love [ it's a radio-broadcasting tower for goodness sakes!!!] got me thinking about an underutilized yet infinitely more logical proposal site: the Taj Mahal. What screams love like a massive, marble mausoleum? Our love is so amazing even death can't do us part.

Easily the cutest kid on screen, ever. Image courtesy of lazydesis.com

The Taj Mahal was the transition to my next thought, a classic scene from Slumdog Millionaire. In said scene a young Jamal, now eking out a living scamming gullible foreigners as a tour guide at the Taj Mahal, proudly proclaims that Empress Mumtaz died in a traffic accident. Apparantly she couldn't get to the hospital on time to deliver her umpteenth child; sources say it was very tragic.


Which then got me thinking about Chowpatty Beach and roadside chaat stalls, which reminded me of how hungry I was since the last meal I had consumed was almost 10 hours ago.

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Studies have shown that being awake for 17-19 hours is similar to functioning at a blood alcohol level of about 80mg/ml. Considering how much sleep I've been getting lately, I'm probably functioning at a blood alcohol level of 240 mg/ml. I promise to try and get more sleep so that posts wil return to their normal sanity (or insanity, depending on your personal opinion) levels.

Please Help Resuscitate a Poor, Deflated Ego

I still remember reading Charles Dickens' Great Expectations my freshman year of high school. A widely-acknowledged bibliophile, my immediate reactions after reading the book were a) to draw and quarter the pompous, so-called, literary experts who suggest that Dickens has any talent b) flog the sheep-minded school administrator that followed said experts' advice and therefore put the book on the curriculum and c) shoot myself for having actually read every single page of said garbage, instead of sparks-notes-ing (yes I did make that word up) the novel like the rest of my infinitely wiser classmates (having integrity can really suck sometimes).

Luckily for you, my friends, we now live in the age of internet publishing. If you read garbage, you don't have to take it lying down any more. I therefore encourage you to exercise your right to speak about what you read, to talk back to the authors whose opinions you had previously been mutely force-fed, starting first and foremost with this blog here. If you have an opinion, I want to hear it, about the things you read here, about the things on your mind, heck just about anything. As long as your opinions are not racist, sexist, vulgar or obscene, I promise to publish said comment and get back to you in a timely fashion.

Please stop by and introduce yourself. I know somebody's out there reading (the Blogger Stats tab definitely seems to suggest so, and hopefully these readers are not just the friends and family I strong-armed into reading said blog via a very admittedly pathetic Facebook status). Why do you read this blog? Do you relate to any of the situations I write about?

The blogosphere is an amazing place to make friends beyond the barriers of geographical distance. Take advantage of this amazing opportunity and definitely stop by and say hi. You don't even have to use your real name if you comment (I promise I won't be offended). If you think my blog's worth reading, please add yourself to the followers list and recommend this site to anyone else you think would be interested.