Sorry Dahling no autographs

That's me with the proof of my First Book.

Ok it's a Hash Catalogue and probably the best deal I could claim for myself on this book is being the Editor.

They say that each of us has a book inside of us. (No you bastards, stop smirking I have not swallowed the Encyclopaedia Britannica).

In my case actually I hope there are two.

One is a play script that I had started a long time back. I need to go through a whole stack of archive CDs that came back from the office to find the first few scenes of that one. A poignant Urban Drama about a Fag in the City. A Karan Johar style tear-jerker but without the ostentatious opulence. Stark minimalist sets. That's the way I envision it. It's as though the script has been written to be performed at the Tata Experimental Theatre (it was inspired by a play I saw there so perhaps in a way it has)

The second of course is my magnum-opus, my novel. Tentatively titled "The curse of the Silver Spoon" – it's fiction with a few bits plagiarised from the lives of me and my friends. It's the kind of Book which if it ever gets converted into a movie would have to star AB's Baby, not because of my infatuation with him but simply because I believe it is a role that he could identify with and perhaps from his own personal experiences do full justice to.

I think I may even chuck the plans for checking out the Middle aged ex-virgin showgirl and just grab the laptop, take off to the beaches of Tarkarli and get down to some serious work on this around my Birthday.

Choices, choices choices... The decision is going to have to be made soon. I certainly do not fancy spending time in that Shitty Boat suite this time.