In which our hero finds himself stuck to an evil, sticky couch for long stretches of time (and the wrong stretches of time) and upon waking asks, "where am I?" but does not receive an answer from the window.
Sweet are the uses of jet-lag, specially when there are a million things to be attended to.
Upon opening one-and-a-half eyes and after blankly staring at the wall clock for nearly two minutes (could have been two hours), I tried to remember if I was here or there. This same sensation descended upon me on the flight from Bangalore to Mumbai. For a few seconds, around the time when the Woman in Red brought out the eighty-rupee vada-pav, I couldn't quite tell if I was leaving Bangalore or landing there. The hippocampus and me then got into a silent shouting match. "HOMESICK OR HAPPY?" "I DON"T KNOW!" "WELL, MAKE UP YOUR MIND FAST!" "I CAN'T!" "MU!"
And it was in the same state of delicate imbalance that I read an article yesterday in the NYT magazine, titled "What do women want". (The article's here). If the word "post-feminism" scares you, let me summarize the article for you in one word: Bonobos.
It seems what women want most are bonobos. So if you are a single man, this is your competition: