Midnight of Sept 1, 2006: Hmmmmm...

Sharan called to coax me to accompany him and his sister to Coorg for the weekend. He wants to hit the road by seven in the morning tomorrow, and its already 12 am. Not that its too short a notice for me, but its Onam on Monday, and I couldnt leave Amma and Lassie behind. Not that theres much planned for the weekend either, but yeah, I'd wanna spend it around them. Plus, theres a truck load of books housing dust and eight generations of silver fish, just waiting to be picked up and read. I can almost feel the suicidal thoughts of those millions and trillions of words from those books, springing from leading an innately resourceful yet purposeless life devoid of meaning and worth. Now I know exactly what THAT feels like, and if I can help it, theres no way I am gonna let them keep feeling the same. Hmmmmm....so which one of them do I pick up and redeem tomorrow? Erma Bombeck? Shes too light. Funny but light. Kamala Das. She's twisted to a certain degree and so am I. Maybe thats why I shouldn't read her. Not now. Malcom Gladwell perhaps? His idea of a tipping point was so romantic. No wonder it still remains a fantasy. Thomas Hardy looks inviting from here. So does Machiovelli... ah! choices, to make or not to make, that is the question. Maybe I'll just go to bed for now.