The Sanctum

Welcome, traveller. This be the realm of Jay Niner, where everything be possible, and nothing ever happens. If, perchance, thou wisheth to tarry, then find thou a page from the Grimoire and read. For we are here in eternity, and we are in medias res.


Lethargy's no sin.

It's not hard to feel stupid when you're nineteen and instead of interning you're sitting your ass off in a forty-five degree celsius cyber cafe. Added to the fact that my creative juices packed up and went to Simla for the summer, my girlfriend to Pattaya for all I know, my sanity to hell and my energy to the ether.
In short, I'm fucked.
At least torrent is on, but because of an internal combustion problem in the family computer's modem, hellsbells can ring to eternity while googledotcom loads. The worst part about being here isn't even the boredom, or the heat, but the lethargy. There's Nothing To Do, and that leads to Why The Fuck Should I Do Anything, which in turn just goes back to square one: "Fuck It." Pity, actually, that I didn't keep trying for an internship... but I'm not that kind of person, I never wanted the internship in the first place, what I wanted was a sweet summer in Simla or Mahabaleshwar or Chilkhaldara or Nepal or gods forbid even Kerala, Pooja curled up next to me on some beach or high cliff or in some nook or cranny or even in some decadent hotel with a good stiff whisky and a cigar. But no, siree... I've finally shifted the base of operations from Viman Nagar to Wagholi. Inaccessibility, here I come.
The only forseeable advantage is the occassional use of the car, depending on my dad's temperament.

Added to that are disadvantages I don't and won't want to go into now. The only good thing about here is the downloading... the sheer amount of games from yesteryear that I've managed to accumulate has been enough to keep me occupied, but even so it's that guilty sort of occupation that keeps reminding you every five minutes that you should be doing something else.. writing your novel, cleaning your cupboards, watering the plants.. anything else but sit around, and even then stopping doesn't cross your mind... the next level.. then the next one.. or in my case, read tons of ebooks.. turn the page, again and again and again until it's four in the morning and my mom's standing next to me, a red-eyed devil in all glory.
As for ye who tried to reach me on Facebook: I'm sorry, but there was some randaapa on facebook, and it's not worth mentioning except for the words bad language and parental scrutiny. FB is banned at home and for quite a while now my phone has conked off, ever since it got soaked in God's own country.
As a result, social disconnection is the rage and the age, so all I can do is face the same problem a friend of mine faced: where to store all the data being downloaded?
Here's to a month of sundays.


  1. That's solves problems and questions about your disappearing act.

  2. dude u gotta give me an alternate number, need to talk to you. And when is the housewarming party?