Was doing a story on the mad rush for money at the B-schools and was somewhat lost in the highest, mean, median, laterals, PPOs, foreign and domestic. The last time I saw so many numbers together was writing my dissertation for that master’s degree. Got the degree but didn’t master anything. Atleast not yet. After a mind numbing day eight hours at a stretch before an obsolete PC which takes an entire Himmesh Reshammiya song just to launch MS Word (you can imagine how excruciating the experience is), I come home to spend another five (if not more) hours before a-still-not-yet obsolete PC. And what do I find? A tag!
It’s been ages since the last one came my way and I was already feeling excommunicated by the blogging community. Thanks to the makeover girl – AFJ – I have something to post about tonight. But she, like a shrewd public prosecutor wants me to confess my guilt. I’m in the dock and all evidence go against me. Do I have a choice?
Culinary Guilt: I’m a reasonably good cook. Atleast my friends tell me so, purportedly because if I wasn’t they would have to do all the cooking. The secret behind those tingling taste buds is monosodium glutamate. It may not be healthy, but I use it a lot.
Literary Guilt: The books on my bookshelf are not an indicator of my reading habits. The stuff that I usually read is under the mattress.
Audiovisual Guilt: I claim to be a movie maniac and have built a sizeable collection of movies without having watched many of them.
Musical Guilt: In middle school my favourite music director was Bappi Lahiri
Celebrity Guilt: In school I was the House Captain and maintaining the house bulletin board was one of my responsibilities. Then the Shahrukh bug bit me. Next day the principal summons me to her office and orders all the Shahrukh pics and articles off the board. “‘Negative influence’ on the juniors,” that’s what she termed me. The next year I was caught on camera wearing Bobby Deol ‘Barsaat’ glasses.
I now summon five others sinful souls to confess their guilt: