the nuke in my mind

As you sow... Let's keep the facts blurred for the moment ! It is ironic that the word "seed" should have this whole new connotation in the torrent world, that I seem to have ignored in the past few years. I probably am the only desi grad vouching for anti-piracy laws as of this moment.. Ahem ! Anyways, I have been trying to come to terms with some crude facts about myself, these past few days. A chain reaction of sorts, brews in my head everytime I am put in one of the following situations. The premise is that I despise dishonesty. Being the dick that I am, I sometimes wonder whether this is too much to ask of people around me.

Level 1:roadside etiquette part 1...This is not about peeing in the bushes. What's with walkers these days? Don't think that your actions on roads go unnoticed. Here's to y'all with an attitude on the road, what I now choose to call "conscious paralysis of the walker's hand". When was not waving a cool thing? Some of you are gonna say "always". But I am neither looking for a mexican wave nor I expect someone to take out the folding chair. You know, just the good old single handed elegant wave to signify a sense of familiarity: Hey, I do know that person but I now better get back to my walk to avoid that tree !. That is pretty much what "I" expect and I promise I won't make you a contestant in dumb charades "on the go". BUT NO !. I am pissed off with these "suggestive" attempts of knocking my hand down....even when I am on the same side of the road !! Now I think there are too many quotes in this petite para. See what you people have done to me? Let me assure you that waving by itself is not something to be laughed at!!I am not even going to suggest that there is a solution for this problem of mine. This brings me to part 2: "WHISPERS" (not the napkin!). I am always interested in what people talk about, especially when I can hear what they are saying. This is a bit more serious than the previous thing. These accumulate at a much more rapid rate, especially in public spaces. After knocking off a coupl'a beers, your acute sense of hearing can do wonders, for the wrong purpose. Sometimes, I assume so much about all the broken whispers that I can make sense of, that I conclude that I am the object of every conversation. I imagine myself to be the bearded guy who just walked into an English bar. What's more? I travel this tunnel of depression only to find humor with a silver lining at the other end. I am working on not to aggravate this issue and so let me leave with this beautiful song: