Oh my, look at the statistical curves.

Talk about temperature variance. A few days ago - before the rainfall (or should I say, rainfalls?) - the temperature of New Delhi stoutly stood at 44 °C, a figure splashed across the newspapers as conveniently as the puddle water across an unsuspecting pedestrian by a speeding car. I comically accuse the effects of this temperature on my brain for my previous blog entry, which was perhaps as atrociously titled as it was written.

A few days after that entry, the Rain Gods came to the rescue with thunderous rainfall (or falls, I don't really care); this rain brought with itself as much of a cooling effect and temperature drop as the amount of dust and small flying insects. Only a few hours into the rain, the temperature lowered to 22 °C and simultaneously the tempers too lowered to an acceptable degree of tolerance.

2 days passed and the clouds slowly shifted overhead, with not a drop of rain in sight.

No more rain. No more temperature drop. Only an inevitable rise.

So, as of now, 19th June, the temperature of our city stands at 35 °C. But considering the cool winds blowing outside and the sky darkening at this ominous hour (11:46am), can we expect another bout of rain? That remains to be seen.

-| AG.

So damn hot! (and I'm not talking about Sharapova)

I'm talking about the outside weather, which is so damn hot and sunny. Usually I tend to use the word "sunny" to describe a pleasant scenario, as in, What a calm and sunny day it was ... you get the drift. But, in my present mood, I use it to give the picture of scorching heat, sweaty necks, screwed up face expressions and an unpleasant exclamation of "It's so damn hot!" that escapes the mouth of every person who is foolish enough to venture outside. In fact, it'd be foolish to even venture outside of the AC room into another part of the house, because the former is the only place where your body won't be subjected to a 100 degrees of heat, which infests the non-AC parts of the house as much as it infests the roads outside.

-| AG.

I'm running out of witty titles.

I had my Visa interview on Friday, for which I had to stand for 2 hours in queue and had to go through a dozen security checks, which included getting my stuff sent through the kind of conveyor-belted X-Ray machine you commonly see in an Airport. While standing in the queue that moved excruciatingly slow, I blankly gazed at the posters on the wall, winced as my feet started to hurt with all the standing, laughed inwardly at the comical accent of the Americans when they made announcements in Hindi, saw a few people getting rejected, and finally had the security guard telling me to go to one of the 6 interviewing windows for my interview, which lasted 5 minutes and at the end of which I was granted the Student Visa. Everyone -- from the security guards to the consulates to the officials -- was nice and polite.

Also, I saw Pirates 3 yesterday and it was entertaining, to say the least. To be frank, I'm not a big fan of the Pirates franchise, unlike many others I know, who simply adore the first installment. Well, I don't. I don't know what the fuss is all about. I can't make the head and tail of the storyline, although I appreciate the excellent portrayal of the characters such as Davy Jones, Jack Sparrow and Captain Barbossa. Anyway, getting back to the crux of the matter: the third installment. I liked it; it's the kind of movie that anyone can enjoy, even if they don't know who Calypso is, or what Davy Jones's Locker is, or why the Up should be Down at a particular region of the world that is reached after crossing (surviving, rather) huge ice-bergs and a tremendous waterfall.

Also, there are 2 small kittens in my garden. Yes, yes, I know you are probably wondering how swheet and keeyoot they must be and how lucky I am to have them in my house. Well, it's nothing of the sort you may think. Well, OK, so they are kinda cute and orangy but they are little bitches. Why? Because one of them always hisses at me and bares teeth whenever I get too close and another one scampers to the hills. And don't even get me started on their mother. We give that bitch milk each morning, which she quickly gobbles down without a cute meow or an endearing purr. What's worse, even she hisses when we get too close. Hmph! But, it is only out of the goodness of my heart that I don't kick them all out of the house.

-| AG.