Somnolent Sunday.

What a Sunday wasted well. I travelled two hours from home to come to work, switch on my laptop and stare endlessly at the screen, something I could have done sitting in the comfort of my home. Right now, professional life doesn’t look all that comfortable and satisfying. My mentor and editor has resigned and moved base; a new one is coming in; the current person in charge seems to have a problem with me and everything I do (or try to do). Most of my stories end up similar to Sergio Ramos’ penalty kick – into the stratosphere, away from their intended trajectories of finding the back of the net. Before I started typing, I was trying to read The Open magazine’s latest issue. ‘Sorry, Kashmir is happy’ is the cover story. I stared at the computer until the words jumbled into one another, the gray text turned unreadable and incomprehensible, the brain refused to register anything more, and everything around turned gloomy (like a gray rain cloud having suddenly descended and casting a pall all round).

Song of the Day: Basket Case (Green Day)