or some such thing...not an original...but in today's context happiness is something like a good meal, lots of old friends and nice weather...we had a kind of a reunion today, with some old people coming back and talking about their lives and all..and those are the times when you ineviatbly start thinking about your own life. this phenomenon has become so common that i try not to indulge in such luxuries, but can't help it. after all a certain amount of bourgeois self-indulgence has been and will be one of the building blocks of my self image.
but philosophising is an entirely different thing all together (like speaking without hyperboles)
what am i doing in this place? i know that on paper being a research scholar is well and fine, and i do earn some pocket money every once in a while, but when it coms down to one day at a time, i basically just sleep and eat and try andreduce the amount of bitching that i am involved in gradually.
that is about it.. there is no path breaking discovery (ok, wrong term to use, pathbreaking is not the right word for humanities people) and i dont even read to be able to find something to say about my theses. i mean, where is this work taking me?
what rot man, did i not agree to not wallow in self pity? therefore shall do something productive right now, which in my dictionary always means manula labour with lots of sweat involved.
so here we go, to arrange the room and clean up the mess accumulated over two weeks of illness.