Steep slope

That steep slippery slope

Part 1 : It all began ... 

Part 2 : Insanity has a new meaning 
Part 3 : Sinking in (continued)

The anticipation to get the hell out was increasing with each passing day second. The 3 years of the Bangalore weather has made me intolerable to a little bit of change in temperature since the city has always been kind of cool and not so hot. And imagine a little bit more heat right after rains. What preposterousness was that ? As it turns out the seconds were going at hours pace. No kidding, I kept looking at the clock for the second hand to move and it took one hour to more one space ahead. I wish I had used this new found slowed time to get to know her, admire her. Only if I had taken that chance. If only. And then reality struck me, the work wasn't getting into my damn head. Not even a bit. Understanding the code was difficult as it is and there she was lingering in my mind, walking right beside me while I am trying very hard not to look and at the same time fighting to look. Ha, a battle of mind. Mind over matter or Matter over mind. Whatever.

As per the agreement, I was supposed to be on flight by the end of the month of August. I had already spent 2 years in the first two weeks of my stay. By the middle of August, I was told to extend. I protested. They put forth their argument, I put forth mine. But my argument had a very little or no weight at all. Eventually, I made to lose with the stubborn people. I was made to stay for 3 more weeks of the September month. 3 more weeks than the original plan. For me it looked like 3 more years. That day, I happened to notice my hair, which was surprisingly gray. A lot of gray hair. May be I am just another 40 year old in a 24 year old body. Now, I was conscious about my appearance and hair, because well, her.

At just the end of the mid August, I had to had a haircut, because of the unevenness and the stupid paths the hair was taking going in all directions and well hairfall. After spending a hefty sum of money, he makes me a clown of me with his hair styling tricks. No, I didn't ask for that look. And no this wasn't a magic show. He understood nothing of what I had said. And now, this(me) was the sad looking clown. It was stupid. So, I buy a pair of scissors and try to make it look presentable cursing the barber for his extra ordinary skills. As it turns out, the scissor was one screwed up shit. It wasn't even cutting the paper, let alone hair. The trouble that I had to go through for not looking like a clown. Eventually, everything failed. I had become what I had tried all that weekend to avoid. And the next weeks, the more painstaking trouble that I had to take to keep myself from being noticed. Ah, that struggle. 

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