Objectify me...

If you have been missing me, you are nuts, probably. But then, maybe you are not and I write reasonably well and you were actually waiting to see whom I made fun of in the next post (and God help me so much if it were to be you). However, your best laid plans were spoiled by a woman called Tamil Punkster (whom we shall refer to as TP in the remainder of this post; also right now I am too lazy to find the link to her blog and too proud to wrongly guess it), who objectified me and made me go into deep depression, thereby causing me to stop communicating and surviving on a diet of chocolate and beer. Here's what she did: she tried to prod me into action by leaving a comment on my previous post which said, hold your breath, prod! Now, I am a man of sensibilities, a 38 inch chest (the same as Madonna, I am told, though a little less three-dimensional), and a new wireless modem which I bought from TATA Indicom which totally rocks and which is what I am using to write this blog, but I am not an object! It's so typical of women! See a man, prod him like you would a bull with a 38 inch chest (or a rocking, new, TATA Indicom wireless modem). So, here's what I have to say to TP -- thank you. Thank you for having the courage to publicly admit that you have such a bad taste in literature that you read my blog. I am moved beyond words by your kind gesture.

But there are many reasons to why I have been so lax in the department of blogging. Here is the list:

1. Work's killing me. My co-workers are killing me. Lately, everybody seems to be out for my blood (I'm not surprised, since I have the rare A- blood group). In case you don't know, I happen to be in-charge of a small start up involved in development of engineering analysis software (how do you feel about prodding me now, TP, huh?) and for the last three years we have been dreaming of getting new clients (we do have some for the past four years which pay for the food on our tables and the beer bottles underneath them), but we just didn't seem to be able to fool anybody new. Now, suddenly the floodgates have opened -- we have many people wanting to know how we are at our work, whether we'd be so kind as to do pilot projects for them so that they could pay us money, but on the condition that Anurag stop blogging, and what else would it take for them to draw me away from blogger. In general, we are buried in work.

Come to think of it, the only reason that I have not been writing blogs is work! However, I have not stopped looking good, as you can see from a self portrait I shot in the last week of June, the only one which is blog worthy (in the sense that it hides the details of my face without hiding the fact that I have a bent nose). No, seriously, I do quite like this photo, even though the 38 inches of two-dimensional chest is not obvious in it. Well, we must learn to make do with whatever small mercies life throws our way.

A study in narcissism (and tolerance of spelling/grammar nazis)

If, after seeing this picture, you think that half my face is black and devoid of features, you need a lesson in optics and manners, but I am the wrong person to ask for both, though I could teach you the right way to write good object oriented C++ software.

There definitely was much more to write that I thought of when I started this post and the third bottle of beer. Now, everything seems to be a mish-mash of memories, belches and the need to go to sleep without brushing my teeth.

OK.