Ode to Obsession: Alan Davies

In the past couple of months, this man has become a bit of an obsession with me. I have been hunting down pretty much everything he has ever done and watching the crap out of it. And if all fails, I've been going back to QI, where he's a fixture.
I don't quite know where the fascination lies. Well, he's unbelievably hot. And seems to get better looking as he ages. I don't really find him funny, and his intelligence is something of a debate and I do have a hard time comprehending his brand of wit. But I just can't seem to stop watching him.
This obsession has led me to discover truths about the internet which have largely been a part of the cyber urban legends and I never really believed to be true. The seedy underside. The troll central, the cesspool which only consists of human bacteria that breeds hate. I had never really come across places on the internet which was just out there to tear people into pieces. I've discovered that all that celebrities say about the internet is mostly true.
A very disconcerting thought.
But a toast to Mr. Alan Davies. We have been together for more than a month and still going strong. 

Bravery in the Rear View Mirror

I had gone to MG Road in the evening to meet a friend. And when I was done I couldn't get any transportation to get back home. Thankfully, where I live is relatively close, so I decided to walk. Walking in Bangalore at any given time is a rather risky business. People give you strange looks. And couple that with the time (it was past eight thirty in the evening) people seemed to be gawking much more than normal.
As I walked, I had an internal debate with myself. Was I being paranoid? Because it wasn't that late. There were people about. And post the Delhi rape case things seem more sinister than ever, especially for single women living in a different city where one doesn't even comprehend the language people speak. So I walked faster.
I had to cross a stretch of MG Road which is pretty deserted at any given point. Now I had seen street walkers hanging around there when I crossed it in autos before, but it never registered. But as I walked, I was suddenly near the area where they stand and conduct business. I only realized when a couple of guys on a bike loitering about there called after me with a "Can we help you Madam" or something to that effect. By this time I could see an auto going very slowly and stopping every two minutes with a lady coming in and out in intervals, and soon I saw the painted ladies of the night, standing fearlessly and in solitary intervals in front of me like islands of calm where men and autos hovered about, talking and trying to catch their attention.
I walked faster. Noticing more than ever now, that the roads were quite empty and deserted though it was the heart of the city. and I only sighed in relief when I was back in my own area, Where I saw a handful of families eating icecreams in cars.
And the realization hit me like a punch. I had just run as fast as my legs could carry past Bravery itself. What had I feared as I walked past that stretch of the road? Indecent propositions from men out to buy sex? Rape? Physical violence?
Those street walkers standing there, there is no real difference between me and them- they too are women. The difference is that I am a coward who runs away from these things and they look them in the eye and refuse to cower.
And society calls them the soiled women. Because they are braver than anything unsoiled ones like me will ever be.