Where I am reminded of a story

On the walk from the bus stand saw a couple of kids non-chalantly steal a couple of pakodas from a stall. Did it really well too. Jogging along, out came hand, hand grabbed the goodies and jogging away. Reminded of that story. The one where the artist is looking for a model for Judas and Christ. And he finds Christ in the urchin and Judas somewhere else. Something like that. I think I was too young to really understand the story.

Speaking of which, at the signal where Centre Point sits on Barakhamba Road there were a couple of kids begging on the footpath. One beating a drum, and the other dancing and doing a few acrobatics. Stood in the bus and looked at the little thing do the somersaults and then squeeze her tiny body through a ring. A few people threw coins onto the road, which she would then hunt down. She could not have been more than five years old.

In other news, I have found out that I now come under the taxable income bracket which really fukd my mind up coz I do not have that much money anyway. Apparently its a future calculation based on present earnings or some shit like that. To say it hurts would be an understatement. Think bare-handed vasectomy. With no bloody laughing gas or whatever!

One of the cool things about having a cycle with gears is that you can sort of shift up/down and find that sweet spot. The perfect one just for you. It is almost as good as that spot on the pillow. You know the one where you just put your head on and boom you be sleeping. Also it allows me to pretend that I have a bike. Sort of.

There is a cycling corridor in Dalhi. It is called the BRT corridor. Two lanes on either side of the broad road made just for cycles. Each lane is further divided into two, white paint running through. Smooth, safe and decently maintained.

Unfortunately those fuckers on motorised vehicles thinks its their fukin pop-in-laws fukin road. Bastards even honk at you! And the worst are those little shit-buckets who drive over the divider and suddenly plomp onto the cycle lane out of nowhere. Quite tempted to the Road Rash thingie and just give them a gentle nudge with me foot. So, so tempting.

Only thing which comes close to that are those deaf fukin retards who walk on the cycle lane. And its not like they will move when you go “tring tring”. No no! They are fukin spirits no? You can drive right fukin through them. I mean what the hell man, just move your ambling ass out of the way. How hard can it be. And then they go all shocked when you whiz past them. Like where the hell did he come from. Shit for brains man. Really.

Anyway. Had elaichi flavoured chai courtesy of Scoobs “metrosexual” taste. Got ’em tea bags and all that. I like non-milk chai.

In order of preference:

1. Filter coffee

2. Non-milk chai

3. Chai

Just thought you might want to know.

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