paint me a picture of what home means to you.

home? do you want the philosophical definition, or just the existential one?

just tell me what the word means to you.

well, i guess it means somewhere i feel comfortable.

that’s cheating.


i’ve seen you in many places and situations. and you seemed comfortable in most of them.


besides, you can’t use comfort. it’s an emotional variable that will probably differ among people.

okay, okay. how about a place i feel i belong?

where’s that?

somewhere i can read the writing on billboards, somewhere i understand the language the people around me are speaking…

you can’t use language.

why not?

you know more than one language. and therefore, there’s a billion places on earth that fit your definition.

well then, how about somewhere i know well?

oh, please. try to be a bit less general, would you?

you know, this is a difficult question.

i’m a difficult person. try again.

can i use happiness?


i guess then, my definition of home would be where i’m the happiest i could ever be.

so where’s that?


…it’s with you.


apologies for cheesiness/crappiness/suckiness. this was just something i had to get out of my system.

happy hartaldays

not much to say. work sucks. family being stupid. etc. etc.

on the bright side, i’m off to malaysia, singapore and south korea in two weeks. once again, though, must babysit a group of civil servants. remind me to tell you about the inanity (and also insanity) that occured on the last trip.

i’m off to watch some jazz this evening. if only i had some alcohol.



well, i’m back.

in lieu of the impending engagement, i realized that perhaps the only option left open to me was to leave the country at the earliest opportunity, and so i did. i spent an idyllic week in dubai and aqaba, jordan, staying in beatiful hotels and waking up in the morning to views like this:

for those of you who doubt the massive proportions of my olfactory organ, here’s some definitive proof, courtesy of jumeirah beach, dubai:

and here’s some more proof, from the dubai creek:

i call that one “just because we work for the world bank doesn’t mean we’re not badass”.

the highlight of the trip for me was the last evening, when i spent several hours on the beach at aqaba, smoking some quality sheesha and listening to live arabic music, while the sea was illuminated by the bursts of light from the distant lighthouse. sadly, there are no pictures of this orgasmic experience.

of course, it wasn’t all just fun and games. there was a lot of this:

but there was also a plethora of splendid food, which goes a long way to explaining the smiles on everyone’s faces here:

i also learned a very important lesson. all jordanian women, without exception, are hot. exceedingly, almost excessively, hot.

screw this arranged marriage shit. guess who’s moving to jordan?


confucius say: rat in hurry run over everything in path, even toes.

i’m channeling my creative energies in a slightly different direction, and i’m glad to say that it’s finally borne some fruit. i’ll post said fruit sometime this week. and no, it’s not another crappy story.

meanwhile, the monsoon finally arrived. three months late. seems like it’s learnt a lesson or two in promptness from our wonderful politicians.