sign of the times...

Spent the past few days in a peaceful state with little to rant or even laugh about. Discovered though, that the single largest source of amusement, quiet or otherwise, is the newspaper. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to figure which one I'm talking about. Dad, the same one I spoke about in the earlier post, actually subscribes to the tissue paper substitute because it has a bridge column by Omar Sharief. Or however his name is spelt. And like I mentioned is now also addicted to sudoku...in colour. But all those points apart the washrag is probably the single largest contributor to my early morning good mood after the coffee and the gym (which for reasons soon to be discussed has been closed for the past couple of days).
Looking at what psychotic, hallucinogen induced fits of verbosity have been chosen to fill the cty specific supplement its a little hard to believe its even edited. But jokes and raving apart I shall confess I appeared there (page 1 not 3, if that's any consolation). But stories of Salman Khan and how celebrities get it bad simply because they're celebrities... no Einstein it's because you do stuff that's illegal and you don't realise that you aren't above the law. And the fashion tips and yada yada...
But in more important things... kept blaming the influx of people from outside and very specifically north of the Vindhyas for the state of my city... today I was proved wrong. Shamefaced I watch on the news (which is the only channel that the tv is showing) as people have just gone from good ol' bangalore or bengaluru or whatever you want to call it, to a raving lunatic mob. And why? an icon of kannada cinema passed away? He wasn't shot, kidnapped, murdered, run over by a drunk driver. He died of a myocardial infarction at 77. Take it from someone who knows, at 77 its not an impossible thing to have a heart attack.
So what does the greiving public do? torches buses, beats up policemen, wrecks the city and shuts it down. I want to scream but I'm too chicken to even drive via Kanteerava stadium. Instead I treat the twenty odd assaulted policemen, get home through a quiet route, have a beer and feel sorry for myself...
Like a friend of mine says, stupidity is beyond language, race or religion...