'Two' good to be true

While I don’t exactly fancy a heated spat with any frowning, strait-jacketed soul about the ethical, legal and social challenges of cloning, what I wouldn’t mind at all would be getting a clone.

So while the clone would sit poker-faced at my workstation, busily sending out official communiqués one after the other, the ‘original’ me would be out:

1. Finishing pending shopping tasks for the wedding. And boy! Are there quite a few left!
2. Watching new releases at my preferred theatre. And at home, curl up with a decaf and a season from F*R*I*E*N*D*S*
3. Going on the last few naughty dates with TOOMA before our ‘knotty’ day
4. Scouting around for bargains with best friend. And follow the motto to the ‘T’ - Shop till we both drop
5. Pampering myself to spas and other luxuriating experiences
6. Getting that long overdue haircut and start looking like my usual self. Instead of resembling a long-lost aborigine from NZ
7. Reading all the books I have bought these last few months, but never got around to reading beyond the first few pages
8. Working out at the gym. Twice. Daily. And not collapse after that
9. Getting my teeth cleaned. And flash that dazzling, pearly smile even at those people who sorely test my patience and / or are in dire need of a shrink
10. And lastly, stopping to get a breather, and smell the flowers along the way…

But here I am. Minus a clone. Holding the fort as a sole warrior.

Is there any fairness in this world?

The solitude of a remote beach

Sometimes all that I can think of is a beach.

Today is one of those days when I have an aching desire to be on one.

Not one of those teeming with people, the women half sucking n their breaths to keep from bursting in a constricting, smaller size bikini / tankini, while doing a 360 degree overview of all those they survey from their gender - taking-in everything from the the snazzy Dior / YSL sunglasses they sport to whether they are partial to slathering Bullfrog or Neutrogena suntan lotion generously upon their toned (or not so toned) bodies...

While the men suck in their breaths or gasp for entirely different reasons...

I want to escape to a solitary beach right now...

What I would like to do most right now is to toss some gaily-colored skirts / sarongs (which I would have to purchase) into an oversized straw bag, fish out the dark grey sunglasses I have discarded (and which lie somewhere beneath all that is heaped on my table), rack my memory hard for where I last put the hat I bought while on my desert trip to Jaisalmer, borrow the lime-green pair of flip-flops from a college friend, pack the couple of books I am simultaneously trying to get-through, throw in my Banana Boat sunscreen tube, check that I have enough cash on me, keep some spirits and a pack of ciggies, and catch the next flight to the nearest beach (which happens to be Mumbai in my case, but I'd rather choose Goa over it anyday).

And while sipping a cool beer, take a stroll...

Alone.

This is what peace means to me right now.

Me.
Alone on a beach.
The waves lapping up at my barefeet, the azure ocean spread silently till as far as the eyes can discern; the beach crabs also ensuring that they leave me to myself. A yard further, there is a shack with a cane chair, an icebox, a hammock tied to two palm trees nearby, and a chaise-lounge - all beckoning to me invitingly, lest my body and peds desire some rest.
Pure bliss!

Something which no Rs-4500-an-hour-spa can give me. No matter how much they try to convince me