The irritating part about those guitar strumming idiots one listens to on radio is that every now and then, those pullers of strings come up with a turn of phrase that hits the nail on the head.

There's this guy, decent enough singer, who's come up with "Quarter-life crisis".

Now, don't you go about believing what people tell you... it's scary, the kind of nonsense they come up with these days... but certain people have been indulging in baseless and downright tawdry gossip about how yours truly is due to turn 25 in a couple of months.

Now while that is indisputably untrue... I turn 21, actually... it does set one to thinking about what it is that one needs out of life and other such weighty stuff.

You know how it is, suddenly, the question of the hour is no longer "Dude! It's four in the morning. Where on Mother Earth are you going to get beer now?", but something more suitably appropriate.

As in say, "Dude! What am I doing with my life man?"

(And the correct answer to that, especially at four in the morning, is as follows: " Finish that beer, you little $%^&^%^&%$^#, and I'll get us another couple. Saala ^&&*^&*$%^#$$%.")

But don't you worry, dear reader. Fret not, and fume not. This is not a weighty discourse about deep philosophical issues and all that.

This is much more immediate, much more pressing, and much more urgent.

I'm single.

Which, contrary to all the bravado espoused by single guys the world over, is not to the good.

Deep in our heart, we all dream of the doe eyed wondrous maiden, who with her beguiling charms, shall make blundering drooling simpletons of the lot of us, and lead us out of the damned dungeons of bachelorhood. She'll have that wonderful mellifluous voice, that wonderful soothing touch, that wonderful curvaceous body, that wonderful soulful smile... you know the routine, no brethren?

Yus, yus... we all the dream.

And we all the search, and we all the hope, and the gape, and all that jazz.

But if those baseless (which they are) rumors (which they are) hold some water, then the sand runneth out rather rapidly.

And therefore, Kulkarni has now donned the Googlian avatar. He searches, high and low, far and wide.

He joins libraries, he polishes his bike, he scourges Orkut, he may even manage to bring up the courage to smile at his pretty neighbours one of these days. And if a miracle occurs, it might even be when she's looking at him.

But no matter the time, effort and money involved, there will be a Girlphriend For Kulkarni.

The search is on.

All manners of suggestions that will expedite the search are welcome, and if any of the aforementioned doe eyed beauties wish to sign up for the New and Improved GFK programme, membership is free.

Not necessarily for life.

P.S. On an entirely unrelated note, Tom Cruise is considering suing the undersigned for thematic infringement of a trilogy that he (Tom cruise, not the undersigned) completed recently. The undersigned refuses to comment.