Sitting on my bed on a sweltering Kolkata afternoon I cannot help but think of the first Physics lesson nine years back about Newton’s Laws which talks about the unwillingness of an inanimate object to change its state of being. To shift from my position seems to require such a monumental effort that I cannot simply be bothered. Sweat trickles down my back and I look up to the ceiling every few minutes to make sure that the fan is doing its job. In my mind I see images fromĀ  a hollywood western: two old cowboys sitting on chairs outside a tavern, legs crossed, sipping a beer and squinting at the haze that hangs over the town. The newspaper devotes a few columns everyday to news of impending rain thereby making one more acutely aware of the extreme discomfort. It feels like the Matrix, like I am connected to machines that are sucking my fluids. I lift my finger…. phew… move the pointer to publish….

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