So yesterday I “mingled” with the (ugggh) common man (read used public transportation) and I realised that my life is just funny. I mean it just is. There is no point running away from it. Not that I ever ran away from it, I think I just did not really acknowledge its presence. Like the ugly chick who is standing next to the hot chick you are trying to hit on.
So I took the (ughh) “local” and I was one of the last to get onto the train and so I am holding onto that pole near the exit, when someone pokes their hands in between my frikkin legs and grabs onto the pole (ya ya fuckyouandgrowup). And I am like, what the fuck is in between my legs and I look down and I see these two hands between my legs and holding onto the pole. It was some fuckin short fuckin kid who jumped onto the train at the last minute.
Motherfucker. Anyway, once the train starts moving the kid politely pulls his hands away and just walks into the compartment, all cool and composed as shit.
Then I dropped by the Sassanian cause it is one of my favourites and I hang out there a fair bit whenever someone in the family gets admitted to the Bombay Hospital (What? You want me to eat that shitty hospital food? Fuck no). So I go there and stuff my face with akuri and pao and bun muska and chai. And then I go and pay the bill and start chatting with the lady at the counter. And, somehow, in the middle of the conversation, she just randomly says, “Take it from me. Someone is going to off Sonia Gandhi” and she gives me this super-confident nod. And I don’t know what the fuck I am supposed to say to that, so I just smile and nod and say “okbye tata”.
Indigenous. I will be indigenous. Or at least I will be till the time I think it means being an indian genius.
Speaking of which, I have now upped my typing skills a hundred thousand times. I just recently managed to type an entire page with just 10 errors. You have no idea how difficult that is. You damn kids don’t know what is to use a type writer. All you do is use those computers with their auto-correct. Oh, you and your i-pda’s. Now hand me my walking stick.
Arrested Development 2013. I cannot. Wait.