The poor cherub seems to be missing his aim a lot these days. Can’t blame him entirely now, can you? Boys will be boys, cherubs will be disappointed, and never the twain shall meet…
Anyway, for a day dedicated to a saint in the name of love, Valentine’s has acquired multiple layers of meaning, gloss, hypocrisy and capitalist instincts. True romantics can only wonder as they wander about in lonely parks( in black eyed peas nature)- where is the love??
It now seems to hold no more of the ecstasy that motivated us to get out of bed on at least one cold school morning, since it held promise, if not of a date, then definitely of a lot of hot gossip. Breathe easy- only black coffee holds any promises of a new day dawning in the subconscious now. Who cares, man?
But no one stops the day from being a harbinger of past frolics. Last year’s riotous facade of uncaring that the girls of Ramjas English, batch of 2007 put up is, arguably, impassable. When a dozen girls have managed to crown themselves as the anti- Valentines squad, armoured in black, gained media attention for their heroics and acted like a platoon of idiots in front of the much revered Love Tree in Hindu’s backyard (and this, believe you me, is just the tip of the iceberg), what else would you call it? Ok, there are names, but this is for public reading.
You really have to applaud and laud the girls for their bravado for venturing out without so much as even a plastic rose in their hands or a man on their sleeve on this mucho musho day. well, not as much as that girl we saw in DSE who was dying of cold since she had chosen to dress ‘up’ for her sweetheart. Now that calls for balls. And a quick trip to the local ENT specialist.
But Sethi’s black truffle pastries surely surpassed any yule logs that Wengers’ might have come up with. And the RSS also surpassed Rakhi Sawant’s imagination in their attempts to gain attention and make a point. Which was cultural pollution, western disturbance,hold onto traditions, saffron is the new pink, i’ve-got-a-bike-baby-aaja-meri-gadi-mein-……..
So, as kisses, perfumes, angels and ‘love’ wafted through the air, St. Valentine must have looked down upon the world from his plush cloud and sighed to himself with satisfaction. And i now sigh with satisfaction, if only upon having revisited a memory.
Here a love,
There a love,
Everywhere a love-love….
Cheers!(Hold on to your seat belts..)
slate-d 
nice.i clearly remember how the girls arrived in black but held red balloons. but isn’t it virgin tree? i have never heard of a love tree. maybe my facts are wrong (like always).”that calls for balls”i LIKE this line, very nice.overall, an interesting post. journalists are truly the best bloggers. write more and i liked the story link ups.
hehheh…i know a bit about all this..dont i??…nicely crafted piece….:)