I have a friend who occasionally declares herself “a blogger”. She once bemoaned the response she invariably receives at this declaration (“Oh really? Where can I find your blog?”), often supplied by complete strangers. The solution to her problems, I suggested at the time, was to create a blog whose every entry was an apology for not posting. This resembles a blog, while in fact having no content in it whatsoever. I found my idea terribly amusing, until I realised that it describes every blog I have ever attempted to maintain. And so, I will not apologise. I will simply do lots of not-posting between the actual posting, whenever that might occur.
Today I goaded myself into biking fifty kilometres, primarily out of annoyance. In my spare time (which is all of my time) I stalk various forums, one of which is for Indian bikers. Occasionally folks who do not stalk will write up reports of their latest escapades, which usually make for good reading. Last night, however, a long post went up detailing a gentleman’s first “half-century”; there were many, many accompanying pictures. This chappy, who rides a moderately expensive bicycle, decided to spend an entire day exhaustively cataloguing a modest (at best) athletic effort. I should clarify that it was the expensive bicycle and inhumanely large picture album that made his pride unbearable. And so I forced myself to ride the same distance this morning. Here is my report:
- Apparently, in North Bangalore, you will find characters such as these: a gentleman in a lab coat riding a motorcycle. An all-yellow motorcycle.
- You will also find autorickshaws with impressive music systems. I passed one fellow who had a real funky bass-line going.
I came back home and ate a massive lunch, the very thought of which makes me salivate with hunger. Please stew here for a moment while I toast some bread (between the two of us we might have an excellent meal). To recover from this mega-meal I went for a walk. And, like all good walks, this one involved a stroll directly into Koshy’s, inside which I consumed a coffee and a gin and tonic. You should not really be interested in my choice of beverages, except for that fact that these two drinks form the basis of my intoxication rituals. What I am trying to tell you is that with these two alone an empire of debauchery can be conjured.
Completely contrary to my impression upon returning from the barbaric lands, I realise that I quite enjoy spending time at Koshy’s. When I first came back to Bangalore I thought that the comparatively expensive coffee (keep in mind that India Coffee House is just down the street) and food would keep me away. It has redeemed itself by offering a luxury that is rare to find: they do not kick you out for loitering, no matter how many hours that particular session might last (though one is not allowed to play chess within the premises. Don’t ask me why, but it is apparently in the Rules). Koshy’s also offers me something else: the fair chance of bumping into friends also loitering. In this way loitering sessions can be combined and prolonged and the world will revolve happily.
I apologise for posting.