Meh to you, Air India!

And I’m back in sunny oh-my-god-it’s-like-living-in-a-waterfall rainy Singapore with more than a week of college shamelessly waving me goodbye. What with college starting, the helplessly annoying course registration procedure, a Sumo wrestler-load of Red Cross work, casting calls for Hall 13’s Production, being stranded in a remote industrial area of Singapore, the dramatic first batch outing of the new year, and all those small but add-to-the-list-of-things-you-ended-up-thinking-about things, it’s a flaming miracle that my head is still intact. Thankfully, a couple of holidays for the Chinese New Year (rabbits!) are coming up, but nowadays even holidays think that it’s their prerogative to be not devoid of work.

Round and round, here we go again.
Round and round, here we go again.

Incidentally, my flight back via Air India – quite unlike Jet Airways’ – was remarkable in what I wouldn’t look back on and call a “good way”. The air hostess(es) decided that it’s quite the idea to turn up the air-conditioner because there weren’t enough blankets (honestly, did they not know they were flying out of Delhi in mid-winter?), the cabin crew religiously ignored the summoning light thing above my seat as they walked past it several times, the in-flight entertainment made me double check if I was in the correct decade (and I have only Jet Airways’ to compare it to), and one air hostess’s hinting at my being too young to drink (I don’t blame her, but I don’t like her) made me resort to one of my infamous eyerolls.

Oh, and I also managed to drop my guitar at the security check at the airport (I was annoyed at myself for forgetting that scissors are indeed sharp) and later found that it had cracked. It still sounds fine, thankfully. By the way, while we’re on the subject of guitars, guess what someone bought in his winter holidays?!

Oh yes, I did.
Oh yes, I did.

The guitar-buying, though, happens to be the only thing that crossed itself off my very short list of holiday plans, so saying that I was satisfied with that three-week break would be like calling Mount Everest rather short.

Ah well, a jam-packed semester sadistically beckons, so with your leave I think I must … having writ, move on.

PS: Next time remind me to take extra watch batteries.

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