Same Old, Same Old

Me: "All those who have something better to do, don't read any further. Others, welcome to your dose of Freespirit, uncut..you won't go away disappointed. Aah yes..and Figaro, uncut too. Happy?"

Figaro: *Purr* (extremely pleased and licking herself.)

Me:" in·ef·fa·ble
adj.
Incapable of being expressed; indescribable or unutterable

That's my day in a word. Nah, don't attribute to me the success of scaling that elusive peak or reaching those treacherous shores. At least, not as yet. Rigorous physical activity is, by last established facts, impossible from under the bedcovers, where I spent a great deal of today. (I did get up, but then the first two classes got canceled and after that..well, after that I was in slumber's sweet embrace)

*Brrr*..it's cold. I'm in Chennai and it's cold, here, in Chennai. *Mmmmm* ..last night's hug is still keeping me warm. Last night's hug, actually the last few nights, are doing more than that. All the mushy songs on Mary Ray's comp don't seem mawkish (yuck..get a room or hand him a tissue, mawkish) any longer. Stop that Figaro! (in view of the underaged who might read this, Figaro's gestures will not be described.) Getting back..those love-lorn guys weeping..the songs can never make sense or be acceptable (yuck..guys crying..gimme a break) but I get where they are coming from. *accompanied by vigorous nodding of head to prove extent of understanding* I said stop that Figaro!!!

Those poor souls are probably walking on thin air like I am. *Gosh, did I say that?? I meant..umm..umm..you get what I mean.*

Screw it..I am walking on thin air, sailing in the clouds..."

Figaro: "Basically, you have your feet miles off the ground..we get it. Now can we proceed?" (best imagined with rolling of eyes)

Me: "*** off Figaro! Succumbing to Daphne's language..too much Frasier..sorry you poor girl. Just a little more.. I feel like I've gone back a few months to fall a little deeper in.."

Figaro: "Stop..Stop right there. I beseech you..proceed no further. I can't take any more of how you're feeling the rush again or the giddy raptures you're thrown in. For that matter, even this playlist and your off-key singing at the top of your voice. *Rummaging through cabinet* Don't we have prosaic any longer? If not, I need to be drugged, where is the chloroform?"

Me: "Sorry my dear puddy but on cloud number nine is where I am.."

Figaro: "Do you have to call me PUDDY??? And enough with the cliches, like the playlist isn't enough. I have spent four evenings listening to how you're life's changed or how enamored you are or whatever. To think I once called you my soul sister..yuck!! I knew from the very beginning this would be nothing but Trouble but who's gonna listen to a puddy..Aarghh..now I called myself puddy!!! You wait till I get my paws on.."

Me: *In a sudden outburst of feeling, hugging Figaro* "You sweet thing, you wouldn't hurt a soul. Anyway, we'll talk about the rest of my day, fine?"

Figaro: " Whaaa-tever.."

Me: "Yesterday's CAT class was just so amazing. What strikes you first.."

Figaro: "Even before the pedantic, pompous.."

Me: "Don't be so cynical, Figaro. As I was saying, the first thing to strike you is the elegance of the new methods he teaches in Math. I might never reach the Sistine Chapel and be captivated by its eloquence but I know I'll be experiencing the same rush.."

Figaro: "Oh no..no more rushes, please."

Me: "..over the course of the next 8-9 months. Another thing you realise is how important your multiplication tables are, not to forget the squares and cubes of numbers. Mrs. Thomas gets the entire credit for the latter but Dad, Dad is solely responsible for the former."

Figaro: "Here we go..reminiscing. Now I've to pretend to be interested."

Me: *Oblivious to Figaro* "You know, Dad took such pains to ensure I had them right. I sometimes feel bad that Sattu never gotta experience the same. Those evening sessions with Dad, when he got back from work, laid the foundation for my interest in numbers and should be credited for whatever proficiency I have with numbers."

Figaro: "Aww..ain't that nice? Freespirit's trying to be modest. Get over it already, I know how you were frolicking after today's predicted GRE score."

Me: "You would too but too bad for you, puddys don't write a GRE. Anyway, this afternoon, realised how lucky I am and sent off a nice long mail to Dad about everything and nothing. Felt really good about doing so too. His reply tinged my exuberance a little though, he asked about Germany again."

Figaro: *Wriggling out of my lap. Had started petting her inadvertently.* "You poor girl, whose parents encourage her to explore all her frontiers. I so sympathise."

Me: "Don't be mean, Figaro. You know my reasons for not wanting to go."

Figaro: "Awww right."

Me: "That's it about my day actually."

Figaro: "That and those GRE scores you were jumping about, the graceful *cough* dancing in the corridor, the singing *more coughing*, finally reaching the library and getting your books, a nice talk with your Mom and Sattu..did I leave out anything?"

Me: *More impatient than before* "No Figaro, those details were painstakingly accurate. You know what I was thinking a couple of days back though?"

Figaro: "Mercifully, I don't. Oh no..you're gonna elaborate, aren't you?"

Me: "You remember that episode of FRIENDS when Joey doesn't know about 'A Tale of Two Cities' and thinks he can choose his own two cities? What if we were to do the same? As in choose our own two cities?"

Figaro: *Low whistle* "Wow..what an honour!! I get asked before.."

Me: *Lost all my previous patience* "Just answer the question,dammit."

Figaro: "You just wanna tell me which cities you wanna choose..go ahead. Plus, I have no preferences. I'll go wherever you take me."

*Comes and rubs herself against my leg.*

Me: *Returning to my previous excited state and petting her* "My dear puddy. Been in a dilemma of sorts, can't think of living any place other than Bangalore, but that's probably because of the familiarity factor. But that in my childish heart feels like I'm cheating on the city of my birth. But I can't possibly go back to Mumbai either, can I? But I so want a beach."

Figaro: *Lost in thought too* "You have one foot in Bangalore and the other, just for the sake of some childish treasures, is in Belgaum. Why don't you just accept the change in loyalty, place both feet together in Namma Bengaluru and tell me about your second city?"

(For those of you who didn't follow, Belgaum's exactly half-way between Mumbai and Bangalore.)

Me: "You're right sweetie..Bangalore it is. The honour of the other city should go to either Paris or Vienna, can't seem to decide. Paris, is some place I've always dreamed of or rather all the movies I watch have proclaimed as 'The Romantic City' but Vienna is where 'Before Sunrise' is shot and that movie has touched me more than.."

Figaro: "Hey, I thought we'd gotten past the mush and related rush...and.. Wait a minute..mush, rush..I can write poetry!"

Me: *Still lost in the Capitals of Europe* "Or even Rome..you remember 'Roman Holiday', that seemed like a lot of fun, didn't it? Even Amsterdam would prove to be quite an adventure. Man..this is difficult. See why I called it a dilemma?"

Figaro: "My poor girl, can't help you here, haven't visited any of the cities you are knocking off like this, maybe you should take somebody else's help here"

Me: *Giggling* "You do like..."

Figaro: "Hold it..hold it right there..this has got nothing to do with me liking or not liking.."

Me: *Resumed my previous singing, only interjected by loud exclamations, much to the annoyance of Figaro* "Oh face it..you do.."

Figaro: "I forbid you to complete that sentence. I shall.."

*Figaro's still lost in thinking up appropriate punitive methods and I have resumed my previous grinning-for-no-reason routine.*

Me: "Maybe I should play guitar for sometime now, it'll surely sound nice. You know, I should pick up the Martina McBride song I've been listening to..it's so..what's the word..I can't tell you..the rush.." *Break off, watching Figaro.. can't control giggling*

Figaro: "Sigh! Here we go again..isn't the Almighty, Bruce listening to my prayers?"

(The Almighty, Bruce is none other than Bruce Dickinson, Figaro's so called GOD of Rock Music.)

Afterthought:
Me:"Told ya, you won't be disappointed. My heartfelt apologies to those of you who managed to yank out a few strands in expressing your excited reception of the post. Oh my God, Figaro!! Will you please stop THAT!!"

Figaro: "Why? Why do you need to apologise? Your blog."

Me: "Ever wonder why you're such a maverick, Figaro?..manners."

Figaro: "Incorrect usage my GRE-in-one-week-I'm-so-panicked-friend. But sheesh! Why didn't you think of calling me Maverick? That's such a cool name. You do remember it's Tom Cruise's name in 'Top Gun', right? It's your favourite movie after all..or wait don't tell me you like 'Before Sunrise' more..sheesh...woman!!!"

P.S. If Freespirit is Don Quixote, then Figaro is my Sancho Panza, only in feline form(a nice, podgy Persian).