Three men and a jar of milk powder. In kathmandu. That's when I reached 2 conclusions: a) I need a life. b) I need a life real bad. When one of the aforementioned 3 men got lost looking for powdered cream, I decided enough was enough.

Cut: 3 months later. Now. I just found an old old blog again, this one. If you've not understood the import of the title of this blog yet, you're in for a revelation. Keep reading.

I stand now at the cusp of mildly boring possibility, feeling the most verbose I've felt (all day). The empty textbox affords a certain space to contemplate the emptiness of one's thoughts, doesn't it just? If life were a pursuit of status messages, I guess It'd be an interesting way to go about things.

Anyways, here I am in IIM Cal. Almost done with my second yr. I have absolutely nothing on my plate right now, and the delicious possibility of being ridiculously busy seems a distant mirage on the desert of bad metaphors. If that sentence made sense to you either a) you need therapy or b) you're my batchmate and you know me and you''ve read till this point and you need therapy too.

I almost feel like a kink in a mobius curve, hearkening back to two years ago, when the world was my vegetarian oyster. Were things supposed to turn out this way? Am I, sequestered from the vicissitudes of life in general, making a molehill out of a slightly larger molehill? Is Uwe Boll kidding? 

Isn't this cathartic now. hmm, well considering the last post was relegated to obscurity in Sep '05, and given my proclivity for absolute rubbish, who knows how long this flight of slightly irritating fancy will last..

Back to point: In case, the avid reader is wondering what happened in Kathmandu, the following points may ease the tension: a) MILK POWDER IS JUST AS GOOD FOR A WHITE RUSSIAN AS POWDERED CREAM IS. b) that guy was lost and all..well, he ended up at the hotel again, looking for powdered cream again. He passed out after one peg that night. 

~ No animals were harmed during the writing of this blog.