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Note: If a few of the following characterizations seem stereotyped and larger than life, they probably are. Others more intelligent than I have chalked it up to Time, and how it conflates memory and reflection into a blended - often distorted - whole. Given the marked paucity of females in my sector of the industry, I was amazed a few days ago by just how many women have left their marks – both in positive and negative ways - on my career till date. I am coming up to what would have been the eighth anniversary of my resuming at my first job - if I had not packed my bags one November morning, deciding I had had enough. In the main, I find that five women stand out from that phase of my life: ...

It was supposed to be the weekend that banished my 2011 troubles from memory and got me to let my hair down - something I admittedly do not do often enough. There was the small matter of needing to send in my passport to Mama Charlie’s lackeys for an extension to my residence permit, as well as navigating a week of water survival training (given my well documented aversion for large water bodies). ...

Days like these make me miss NCLC more and more… Sigh…

I finally completed Julian Barnes’ 2011 Man Booker Prize winning book - The Sense of an Ending. Considering I felt both previous Booker Prize winners I read earlier in the year - The Finkler Question and Midnight’s Children were not easy reads, I was pleasantly surprised to find I liked this one. In addition to it being ‘readable’ [and that was the subject of a furore which threatened to engulf this year’s awards] I suspect I liked it because it explored the conflation of memory and reflection, a genre of books I’ve been drawn to since I read Teju Cole’s Open City. ...

The one thing laying the ghosts of the EJ debacle to rest did was to finally free me up mentally to move on after what had been a horrendous six months of torture. On here as in real life, I was beginning to sound like a broken record with my endless whining and musing about what was a lost cause from day zero. In looking to go forward, I made the basic error of falling for the Dalglish conjecture. [The Dalglish conjecture is the fancy way I describe one party in a good friend situation suddenly developing romantic feelings and hoping they will be reciprocated, almost as a rebound.] ...

The following was instigated by a discussion on Twitter with @ Sir Fariku on the case for football as a compelling metaphor for a bloke’s dating life and the Brothers With No Game series on Which Footballer Are You? In the 1997 movie ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ directed by P.J. Hogan, Julianne Potter (played by Julia Roberts) finds herself facing a conundrum of sorts. Her long term friend, Michael O’Neil (played by Dermot Mulroney) informs her a few days short of her own 28th birthday of his impending marriage to Kimberly (played by Cameron Diaz). This should be great news, except for the small matter of a pact between Julianne and Michael where they had agreed that if they remained single till they turned 28, they would get married to each other. She also believes (rightly or wrongly) that Kimberly is the wrong person for him to get married to. ...

For memories which refuse to lie down and die…. But for which we cannot hold on for forever. […] I don’t want to look back and wonder If good enough could have been better Every day’s a day that’s borrowed So why am I waiting for tomorrow […]

One Sunday in December of ‘76 as the dry, dusty harmattan winds dumped a fine layer of dust on a sleepy village, two best friends who had not seen each other for the better part of three years were meeting up under the shade of a kola nut tree, squarely placed in the centre of the court yard of the unpainted cement building that housed one of the ruling families in a little village nestled underneath the overhanging rocks of the Somorika mountains. ...

The National Marriage Project’s Ten Things about Marriage Young Adults should know says that an introduction by family or acquaintances made up sixty percent of the marriages in their 2004 sample. I suspect the data might be dated – an eHarmony staff [on quora] points to a report they commissioned from Harris Interactive that claims that for 2008-09, 14% of marriages came from connections initiated online. It does seem to me that having a two pronged approach – being open to introductions from friends and acquaintances, and getting online – should improve a bloke’s chances of meeting The One (if she actually exists, that is). As a result, I have bitten the bullet and signed up for an account at eHarmony, complete with a six month subscription. Given the audacious claims made in the various ads, the scientific lean of the matching system and frankly, the paucity of options, going down this route seemed a no-brainer to me. ...

The evening before the morning I am due to fly, I stay awake till the wee hours of the morning tossing and turning on my bed. There is the reality of the unfinished business between TheB and I that needs sorting out one way or the other; and that thought, scary as it is, leaves my mind accelerating into overdrive. These could potentially be game changing events I am about to unleash, if I grow the balls to go through with it. History suggests that it will be yet another dumb squib.. One way or the other, there has to be some clarity I reckon