The week that almost was, Damon Albarn & his guns, and more.

12 23 am. Damon Albarn's up and crooning about some girl being a gun. Maybe it's time for a change in the music. Some randomness should suffice.

It's been a good week, this. In the past seven days, I've resigned from my first job, watched my first ever Champions League final, watched the three old Indy Jones flicks, managed to get my mobile number on an ad in the classifieds that entitles me to atleast a handful of calls every hour, played my first competitive cricket match in over two years, watched Sachin get more animated over a dismissal than I'd seen him in over 14 years, let A R Rahman disrupt my music listening habits yet again, started [but not finished] three poems and a couple of articles, travelled about 100km on a bike under a cool afternoon sun and among various such pointless things, inexplicably ended up reviewing my week in my blog.

I suspect too much of 'chanelled' writing is getting to me. I've been saving up lines, storing them, weaving and interweaving them to produce a coherent mass of words and then stowing them away for one big blaze of glory. Maybe I could do with less of that. And more of this.

I had this irrepressible urge to write about the Champions League final but I somehow managed to wriggle out of it. There was this (great) idea I had to write a piece about the contrasting fates of Ronaldo and Terry, both undisputable heroes for their respective sides in regulation time of the final and all through the season, both penalty-missers in the shootout. I think it would've turned out very well. Why can't I finish it now? Hmmmm, some pieces come with an expiry date and this one did. The moment has passed and it isn't coming back. Oh well, maybe the rough draft might be of use somewhere else, sometime else. Huh, there it is. My well-publicised greed with words.

1 17 am. Wonder why it took me so long to type all those simple lines out. I should work on writing faster. Ah, what are the chances. For all my playlist's randomness, Damon Albarn's crooning yet again, this time in his Clint Eastwood-obsessed simian incarnation, about a gun. But this time it's more meaningful. He's on about establishing peace using guns.