Thursday, August 14, 2008

Today I celebrate(?) a month-and-a-half of being incapacitated. Long story short: autorickshaws and Mumbai's potholes in the monsoons; together, they're a surefire recipe for an injured back.

The worst part about an injury of this sort, is that it gives you a lot of "alone" time. You're pretty much confined to your bed, barely permitted to even move about the house to fix your meals, you can't step out to meet friends... The first few days would've almost been a welcome relief, if it weren't for the pain. After all, people in the metropolis long for such sabbaticals from work and other activities. 'Me' time is something we all want and need, but rarely ever find.

But that's the catch. It's alright for a few days. Much longer than that, and you start to feel the itch. Metropolitan people aren't used to sitting still for long, or not meeting people. To deprive them of their hectic schedules is akin to torture!

First, the unbearable boredom. Where you park yourself on the couch and watch every soap opera, movie, talk show, commercial... even the reruns! Trust me, there's really only so many times you can watch The Holiday, regardless of Jude Law (or Cameron Diaz, depending on which side of the fence you are). I began to speak with a British accent after the 15th time. To make matters worse, since there was nobody else around, I was speaking to myself in a British accent!

Then it starts sliding. Nobody's available to talk on the phone, you run out of food the one night you really don't want pizza...

I can't go on, this is just too ugly. And my upper lip's getting all stiff again.

Bollocks!

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