Am floating on the virtual job market. Have a hook pulling inside that makes me want to apply for everything, sit back in a blissful wait for manna to fall from heaven. Because really, that's how it works.Lol.

M&M narration: I am happy with a mote of discontent. I can trust contentment in relationships but there are great misgivings about contentment in life, it's like being on constant watch because you know your skin is going to hop off and bind your neck gleefully.

The Giordiano (my preeeeeeccccciiiooouusss) jeans caught fire at Cocoo's terrace last night. I suppose it serves me right for not being able to laugh without waving my leg around. Didn't even notice. But the view was harshly beautiful, I suppose because of the cold air and the clarity of winter curtains post rain, the bullion lights glinted off the minarets of the gargantuan mosque and fort and the gurdwara shot across space and pinned themselves in the corners of eyes. Ate like a Sumo (of course that may just be an urban myth. Also confessed to wanting to be a geisha when I was young because my knowledge had been limited to the their description as the most cultured of all women so that the kings and queens sent their sons and daughters to these women of the arts to learn manners and to be educated. Apparently the Mughals also brought their children under courtesan tutelage in the good ol days, when the zamana was not so kharab and vile.

Had a lucious paan to follow, succulent, rosy betel nut juice spurting with every chew for fifteen minutes, cooling rush of firewater in mouth.