Say gili gili gili

Latest thing that takes me by surprise in a very unpleasant way is the Microsoft Word document. It's blankness scares the shit out of me. It doesn't even give me a chance man! There's so much to say, so much to be keyed in. Clamps down like the lid of a cookie jar jammed down hard so that whoever wants one will probably bugger off. Oh and am I buggering off...I love the 'new post' page. It's got character...that's how umm gone I am now.

I've been wanting to write how much P.James' Magic show is an integral part of Madras' cityscape. All of those who studied in Madras schools and had birthday parties and attended loads would probably be familiar with the name. I have no idea why any parent would get this not so phunny man to perform and keep us away from the cake! That's the point? Anyway, he's this scraggly coated, musty smelling, oily faced, smooth shaven man with an insipid hat pulling out things from behind his ears and top hats that had resigned themselves to his gili gili gili. And we used to indulge him at an age when we hadn't come across the word 'indulge'. A bit of forced cackling...some of us used to laff so hard just to get it over with. I mean that guy was at every kiddy b'day party! But methinks I laughed cos I wanted the cake and make him feel good about his tricks...cos you see my bunch of snobby fellers never showed much respect for his efforts. That man's still around? Or is it his gilious offspring leavin numbers on wall.

And I love music. I'm so happy my music's around. Would've been nuts now if otherwise. I can still dream...everything from theepidika to unforgettable to don't fear the reaper. But dreams are effervescent. I wanna feel too p'dner