Yes. I know. I should not have.

Getting all shameful just thinking about it.  But unload these dark thoughts I must.

Last night….I switched on the music player in me phone….I lost the handsfree….So I switched on the player…and placed it in my pocket!

Yup, I was one of those retards who listens to the radio on his phone. Full volume. Full blast.

Damn I felt like a bastard.

This extremely pretty woman has started making a recurring entrance into me dreams. Small face, wide smile and eyes which will kill you.

She is in Hong Kong right now. Jet setting job and all the perks which come with a LARGE salary. I know that for sure. I also know that she is so out of my league that it is funny. Really it is.

Speaking of which, in another blow to my ambitions of having a proper old-fashioned love marriage (with full opposing parents and elopement and shit), I have discovered that one dainty little woman is getting married.

Dainty, lost little woman. She reminded me of a deer. Or a doe. Especially when she ate, coz she would chew real slowly and have this lost look in her eyes. You know how deer chew right? Mouths moving in a slightly circular fashion?

Fuk you. I think it was worth watching.

Something made me think of bombay again. The way the waves reach out to you. Grab you in the rain. The narrow, crowded lanes of Bhendi bazaar and the smells of crawford market. And the stark silence of Fort at midnight and the way Flora fountain looks so pretty. The crazily steep slope of peddar road, just before jaslok (?) hospital and the yellow n black cabs struggling their way up. The awesome cold soups at indigo and the super-awesome burgers at indigo deli. The out-stretched buildings of parel and the crazy, sweaty local of the harbour line. The deep fried vada pavs near that college at prabhadevi and the gorgeous house of jinnah at malabar hills. The bright lights of queens necklace and the soft, shimmering waves at worli sea face. The perfectly round kulfi at Parsi Dairy and the mad, maddening smell of ambition.

As I write, I am having one of the most revolting g-chat sessions with one of the most disgusting woman I know. She is, truly, one of the guys.

Coming back to the thought of the day, the awesome thing about me is that I get into situations which are so fucking funny that they will have you laughing for days. And its not like I am shame-less or something. Its just that shit happens.

In a world of assholes and liars and twisted mothafuckas I am a shining beacon of truth, honesty and all that is noble in the human race.

I hate liars. Actually I don’t hate liars, I just hate people who lie to me.

I also hate the fact that I don’t forgive easily. Understatement.

This is getting too much about me. Why don’t you share some of your thoughts? Why can’t we have a cosy, intimate conversation some time? Perhaps in the evening, when the sky is still bright and people are returning home? Shout above the din of the autos and their screeching engines? Or maybe in the early mornings, when the leaves fall from the branches and the trees whisper amongst themselves? Or how about late at night, when all is still and it is just a little bit cooler? Perhaps we can share an ice cream from that cycle ice-cream wallah.

My “colleague” (I tend to use that word quite cautiously) has been in a bad mood for six days now. Which, to my simple mind, is really hard to digest. I guess you have to be a woman to understand. I call her “rats”. I don’t really know why but it just fits.

This sunday I shall go looking for a yoga-class place.

I know. A SHAME D.

This entry was posted in Disconnected sentences, How would I know?!?, Neurotia and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to A SHAME D

  1. anonymusketeer says:

    no, a conversation must be held while playing chess under the gariahat flyover. See here , like this.

    • kroswami says:

      conversation under the gariahat flyover??
      no way
      me would be too busy stuffing face with kathi rolls from that chap who slams his wooden money box shut after every purchase.

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