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Where are you from?

One of the questions that most gets my goat is “where are you from?”

My answers to this have varied from “I was born in a, did my schooling from b,c and d, engineering from e, worked in f. And ooh… BTW my parents are from g and h. So what is the color of Saturn’s third moon?” to anything from Kashmir to Kanyakumari (usually to random people sitting across me in trains, planes or buses).

I mean, how the hell are you supposed to answer such a question?

If the person who has asked the question is from anywhere between a and h, you can usually expect a barrage of questions and/or sweet memories of that place. which you will generally have no clue about. And if you are as bad as me in remembering routes, names etc., you will understand what I am talking about.

I mean I have been living in Gurgaon for the past 18 months now. But the only places I can go to without asking anyone for the route is the Sec-14 market and the 3 malls between iffco chowk and Sahara mall (am still confused between the names of the other two malls).

So the next time you are in Gurgaon/Pune/Anywhere else and want me to meet you in DLF Phase Whatever… please be prepared to give me detailed instructions about how to reach there.

And as far as the “where are you from?” question is concerned… the next time someone asks me that i am going to say Frogstar World B… and subject the questioner to a Total Perspective Vortex. Let me see you survive that.

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The perils of drinking


The worst part about getting drunk (i mean, really drunk) is the morning after. I’m not talking about the hangover, its the temporal amnesia that I can’t digest. Imagine waking up not remembering what you did after a certain point of time the previous night and you’ll understand what I am blabbering about.
So far this is what I’ve been able to gather about the previous night:

  1. Was completely sloshed (yeah, i knew that)
  2. Danced a lot.
  3. I expressed my undying and unconditional love (perfectly straight) to almost all my friends.
  4. Agonized over a broken glass.
  5. Was put to bed twice ‘coz I ran off to the party the first time I was forced to sleep.

Finally I can empathize with Jason Bourne. Open-mouthed
But other than that its a shitty experience to have a nice time and not remember it the next day. Seriously.


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