Archie marries Veronica

There is news everywhere that Archie pops the question to Veronica (at Tate’s ??) instead of the goody gal Betty. There has been a huge outcry in the fan community about this. Are we all jumping the gun?

I would never like to see Archie comics end. Marrying Veronica will do precisely this …put an end to the delightful snobbery and romance here. So has the author a twist in store for us?

1.Like Veronica says no..being the haughty richie rich she can well afford to.
2.Like Archie pops the question and then in his characteristic manner does quite the opposite..of marrying Betty
3.Like Moose murdering Archie when he is made a pawn by Ronnie’s dad and converting the comic into a murder mystery, coz noone will suspect Moose of such cruelty
4.Like Veronica rejecting Archie and confessing that it was Reggie all along.

I can see Archie running behind Nancy Woods already. Please don’t call for Pack up as yet.

A hundred to a Zero

Would it not be nice to live life in reverse? Imagine instead of being born, you started off from the dead. It would be nice to wake up positively from the dead, and be an oldie, maybe on crutches, with no teeth, yet salivating for the best foods on earth. And then as each day progresses, you get younger, your limbs get stronger, crutches discarded, and you enjoy a fat pension post retirement phase. Move ahead to the first day at work ( actually the last day)..people celebrate your joining, you actually know many of them, they welcome you with a gift and maybe flowers. Commit more mistakes at work as you grow in experience backwards, and younger by age. (Okay, I hate the salary growing lesser part here). Exit the work life phase, enter college, live youth. Progress to school and kindergarten, kick friends around, laugh over an ice cream, chase bubbles and butterflies. Become a toddler, enjoy everybody’s attention (And this time you actually experience it), drool on them, make a mess of yours and their clothes. Retire into momma’s womb. Degenerate into an egg. And get passed out.

Wonderful.

Edited to Add on 30 Apr 09:
I swear I had not seen Benjamin Button, and was surprised to see all the controversy about a new Amitabh Bacchan movie being inspired by this one. And no, I had not heard about the Bacchchan movie either until I read it in the papers after I had written about this post.

Okay..I am not a genius.

My day begins

This is one of those days when I reached the office before the sweepers came in. I am ashamed. I am not equipped enough to do that job, yet I am here early. So I log in..it is quite a feeling when the swipe machine shows the time. And then there are puzzled faces all around..from the walls, the computers, the silent yet persistently ringing phones and the security guards. It is ominous. I vow to myself that I shall be early to bed early to rise, but shan’t come in early, I shan’t go late from office.

Then, as if on cue, there is a meowwwwwwwwwww….black cat with green eyes, disturbed from its slumber in the high security – no cell phones with cameras – no storage devices – body check every time you are in and out of even the loo, air conditioned to suit the Eskimos- office. I am phoonked.

No more early to office for me.

Ps: You really believed that I could be early to office?! Okay..I add this post under the fiction category.

Tock-tick tock-tick went the clock

When I was in pre teens, every weekend it used to be a ritual at home. I would loll around in the bed, for most part of the day, which started post lunch, right until snack time in the evening, doing nothing eventful. Sometimes fast asleep too. The apt ending to this was always mock sleeping for about half an hour, with appa trying to pull me out of bed, or moving the pillows out or faking a power cut. As much as I did not want to get out of bed, I also enjoyed this ritual. It was clearly a just appa and me time. I got out of this habit only when in old age (not mine, silly), I found the already laid out beds occupied by the septugenerians in the family immediately after lunch.

A few years back, when I was home for the vacations, and my younger cousins were there for a summer holiday, I noticed the same drama being played out. How I was jealous of my appa showering his attention on the clearly a decade-younger-than-me kids, and not me, a by now twenty something. Who says sibling rivalry attacks only when you are young and immature, or have siblings staying in the house forever.

On my last trip home, there was Act II of this play. Appa playing with his grand daughter. She, lying on the bed, mock sleeping, with the blanket pulled over her, and not missing even the snoring act. This time, there was no jealousy. Just the clock turned back in delightful memories. Maybe I grew up after all.