My Musings

There are too many naysayers around infecting the general populace with economic dismay and general hopelessness. The pandemic and a directionless government have caused a sore throat and severe body aches to what could have been a vibrant and vivacious economy. However, the symptoms don't point to a long time malaise, at least not yet.  A pandemic and an ensuing lockdown of this nature should have caused visible and irreversible damages to many sections of the economy. The lockdown logjam should have caused civil unrest. With constrained supplies, stagflation should have created an economic shock that would have sent the rupee reeling down and the consumer price index soaring up. Oddly though, Mayhem and despair are still limited to the elite commentators' editorials—their hubris notwithstanding.  The immobility of the mobile device   We seem to be oblivious to the fact that essential supplies are knocking at our doorsteps. Monies are exchanging hands with the tap of a f...

 I am sure you remember me, the rickety old inland letter. Scratch your memory stamp hard. You can’t be that old to have forgotten me. Sure, you neither gave me a fond farewell nor bothered to wave an arm! But I am part of your indelible memory of growing up. I served my purpose. I created memories. I delivered. It defies logic that you still relegated me to the ragtag of history. I regret this museumification. I understand that the rickety old donkey was condemned to history. I can fathom the departure of the good old pigeon. But I thought I was the message, not the medium. I could hard code love. When it comes from a pen to a paper, it conveyed a mood; it conveyed emotion; when you rejected my voice, you had to tear me apart, not delete me. That was a meaning in itself. I sure took time to reach, but I did. I sure was not a browse away, but I brought you the first college admission news. Boy, when I did, I came in style. Do you remember the anticipation while you cut me open with...