Where we stutter our lives, living in sudden spurts filled with frustration and unspoken words

Of all the things I would not want to be, a stuttering driving instructor is definitely one of them. “The brake is the one on th-th-th the le-le AAAAAAAAAAAA”


So, in keeping with my on-again off again resolution of learning something new everyday, I went shopping for furniture today. Like proper, serious shit. Full looking at tables and veneer and teak and plywood and sofa fabric and shit. I was like dafuq most of the time although I did see some very pretty stuff. Some very, very expensive stuff rather. Who the fuck pays so much for a chair man? Frikkin crazy ya.

I don’t know whether I will ever have enough money to buy such things but if I do, I am gonna buy the fuck outta them. “Ya, those Italian hand crafted, Kama Sutra Chairs 3.0 – I want 2 million of them. In black.”

Speaking of which, if you take a Meru cab from the Bombay Airport, you get a free can of KS Energy Drink. Where the KS stands for Kama Sutra. I shit you not. No really,  that is how they are selling it.

And I was just thinking that of all the things a prospective taxi-taking client would want…energy drink? I guess it would make sense if they give it to people who are taking the red eye back or some shit like that…then its just a frikkin brilliant idea.

What else what else.

The family car broke down today. Battery full dead. I think she needs to be put down. Its been what 10-11 years now? Of course, like most cars, this one comes with its own set of memories. Crashing and bumping on Bombay’s broken roads, cruising down NH 7, all the way to Kanyakumari, gunning down NH 4 on a manic Bangalore-Bombay run, taking the entire family (plus luggage) from one wedding to another. Never complaining, AC blasting, music blaring. Jam packed with friends, with just enough petrol to get to someone’s house.

I would like to buy the Nano. Whattay car that is man. All chotta and mota and able to ghuso ghuso it anywhere. What parking problem. I would probably get the yellow one, paint a white rally line down the centre. oooh…i could chop the top down, make it a convertible and drive it in the rain with an umbrella in my hand.

Isnt imagination a lovely thing? Learning to imagine is, what I suspect learning to fly is like. Once you do…there sure as hell aint no coming back.

Today we live. Tomorrow we die.

Today we live. Tomorrow we die.

What Fate, what Chance, what Luck.

Tomorrow we die.


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