School and Other Thoughts

My daughter's vacation ends and school starts tomorrow.  She is pretty indifferent about it unlike her mother who is shaking with excitement and also nervous and is behaving much like a cat on a hot tin roof.   Excited because her little baby is going to first standard now - she can still vividly remember the juicy kicks she got when the kid was inside her.

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Back during school years, I would always look forward to the first day of school after summer vacation.  The glow on every child's face, the sights and smells of school (not near the toilets though), the new uncomfortable uniforms, biting new shoes, the new school satchel, newly covered books, the excitement of knowing who would be in my section that year (there was "shuffling" every year), who my class teacher would be...and so on.

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While at school, I was part of the school choir.  The dramatics club would stage musicals now and then and despite my secret hope of being chosen to play a part on stage, I was always delegated to the side stage, as an alto, which in itself was not necessarily bad; at least I did not have to wear makeup.  A lot of effort went into these musicals, and I wonder where the teachers got the energy from, to herd a group of children and bid them do their stuff.  I distinctly remember a musical called "Thumbalina" where the title role was played by a rather short classmate of mine.  I don't remember any of the songs in it though, it was staged when I was in primary school.

We also staged a musical called "The Prodigal Son" (from the Testament), and for some reason, one of the songs in the musical has been running in my head all day today.  It seems to fit my own ruminations of the past few weeks. The song goes thus:

There seem to be several people
Locked up inside of me
Fighting a constant battle
For my identity
Sometimes they keep me prisoner
Sometimes they set me free
Is one of them my true being?
Is one of them really me?

Who am I? 
Just a dreamer of dreams?
Who am I?
Quite a failure it seems?
No, A Hero.
The Idol of the crowd.

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I can't seem to get over the vacation mood.  Got a deadline in a week, and not even a semblance of sense yet.  One of these days I am going to go into hyper panic and I hope my Vox will be ready at that time for verbal outflow of tension.

This deadline is weird.  The requirements are so abstract that I am not even sure I can write anything.  Which is not good because right now, I am the only one in the company who can write, and if I get into a real or perceived mental block, the boss is not going to be a happy camper. 

HELP !

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Read an interesting book (for sake of internet censorship, I won't mention the name of the book), which is an ancient Indian treatise on some essential social umm...customs and practices....that mentions in the passing what makes a good wife.  Of course, it is all atrociously chauvinistic.  It says that one of the requirements of a good "house wife" (which itself is an aggravatingly cliched term) is that she maintains a thriving garden.  I suppose the author would find me an adequate "housewife" in that regard.  My garden, after many years of toil and sweat is just about beginning to respond.  But I won't talk anymore about it lest I jinx it.

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For a birthday treat, we had dinner at a restaurant called "Georgio" in Besent Nagar (Thanks for the tip Gayathri).  Good place. Decent ambience. They even had a projected show of the live World Cup cricket match that junior insisted on watching while eating.  Their Mamos were to die for, and main course was good too.  Desert however, was sadly lacking.  Try it out if you have some moolah to burn and event to celebrate.

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End of Ramble.