Summer breaks, God's gift to students!

I'm finally home! All those days of worrying about whether my tickets are still with me, how much of my baggage is broken/torn/flicked after the semesterly chaos at Old Delhi's railway station, and whether I'll have a pretty girl to pass the three day train journey with or the standard-issue crying baby with clueless new mother that the guys in the Railways seem to take such merriment from in pairing me up with everytime. Turns out they're still having their fun, but someone there probably took pity on me - there was this rather pretty young thing in the compartment next to me, who seemed rather fascinated by my manipulations with the Rubic Cube and only went back to her compartment when her mother issued the summons - Trust me, four months without a haircut and two days without a bath, I'm not surprised her mother was worried either! MY mum went ballistic when she saw me, but thats a whole different paragraph.

This one, in fact. Now, spending 18 years with a buzz-cut leaves a young chap rather restless, even if he's been blessed with a headfull of Scotch-Brite. Turns out it makes a pretty neat mess that garners more than adequate attention when grown (and washed). Unfortunately, three days without a bath and comb (combing's useless, any attempt made at it just result in broken bits of plastic and a whole lot of pain, neither of which I like in my mane) rendered poor mum speechless for a change. That soon changed to a verbal flood, though, and I was given to understand that if I didn't lug my sorry posterior and accompanying body-parts en-totale to the barbers the very next morning before the world had a chance to look at me, life would be a whole lot different, and not in a very good way either.


To my credit, I held out a week :D