A tale of two cities

I decided to take the old classic, put in a weeping widow, three villains, a heroine, an item number and rewrite the same. Then I remembered my name ain't Priyadarshan. So, inspite of the nomenclature, this is more about me jumping between two citites - Chennai and Coimbatore.

Somehow I always had this opinion that every city in Tamil Nadu, barring Chennai, sucks. And the constant glimpses of the devout dedication of the people to their morning rituals all along the railway track from Avadi to Palakkad, during those innumerable train trips to Kerala did nothing to change that opinion. And then my company put me in charge of projects all over Tamil Nadu, and made sure I spend five days in ten touring Salem or Trichy (places that cannot really be called cities). Life did seem all rosy, during draught, ie.

So I wasn't really excited to hear about a project requirement coming up in Coimbatore. But then, from the moment I landed till now, I've really enjoyed my one and a half months here. The weather itself is a good enough reason to officially declare Coimbatore as no more a part of Tamil Nadu. A few days more and I felt things were just as good as in Chennai, sans its water problems, its traffic problems and its angry people. And it comes at half the price too.

Where do I come in then? Nowhere, if you discount the fact that I am the author. Anyway, it has been a while since I laid my hands on this blog. Blame (or thank, depending on how you look at it) my company for that. They have this policy - We kill our employees, either with idleness or with work. So, one moment while I am sitting with nothing to do 7 days a week, 24 hours a day, another moment I'm working 9 days a week, 26 hours a day. (We always exaggerate the work we do, and play down our joblessness, don't we). These days have been of the latter type.

Anyways, lets talk about life. Lately I've been getting a lot of philosophical thoughts; such as what is the purpose of this life, what is that cute receptionist wearing today, what am I going to choose from the buffet table this day - you know, the deeply philosophical kinds. Talking about buffets, I learned at the time of paying my hotel bills that each of my daily dinner buffets costs me Rs. 450. I couldn't help but compare this with the dainty little place I have lunch from - it costs me Rs. 20. The food is just as tasty, just as hygienic, just as filling and I don't even have to walk around collecting my food. But yes, the old couple running the place don't come to my table to sing me a song every day. God bless the economic divide !