Sunday, November 13, 2005

Mind games.

The brain is a strange organ. There are times when I feel convinced that it plays games on me. How else do you explain these situations.

My brain has an almost dysfunctional retrieval mechanism. The probability that I recall, for example, my surname without referring to the driver's license or the PAN card is about a million to one against, about the same probablilty of a person being run over by an extra-terrestrial being addicted to intenet porn. The fact that I don't have a surname doesn't help much.

Under such extra-ordinary circumstances, when you are relising the last bits of onion dosa at lunch, all of a sudden you remember a scene from a tamil drama that was aired on doordarshan more than a decade ago shot with a badly positioned camera that deals with a greek merchant coming to poompuhar for trade and excaliming I've seen many lands in my life as a sailor, but have never heard a language as sweet as tamil and a culture as rich as yours.

The brain does play games.

(Mesg. for blockheads): The reference to the drama was sarcasrtic.

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