Sunday, December 31, 2006
Players - The New Story on Gabbles
What was I thinking of when I wrote it? A conversation with a close friend. So many days spent at the coffee shop observing people. And many more conversations overheard around me. There's an ideal there: the player with the balls, Hindi cinema's celebrated harlot with the heart of gold. :) But I hate excuses. I hate making excuses for people, though I seem to be so adept at making them for myself.
My favourite excuse: not any of the stuff that the players use in the story, nothing silly like that, but something much more deep-rooted and stolid: this is how I am. This is how I am, deal with it. You can almost hear the gavel hammering down then.
Too eager for love? This is how I am.
Too laidback to overtake life? This is how I am.
Too satsfied in who I am? This is how I am.
Absurd, isn't it?
Watching the players unfold their play is a more entertaining option.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
... and of course Christmas is the highest of them all. Might miss cold weather at times like these, but it doesn't really matter. The other day, walking through Crawfod Market, the Traveller was saying how crass and commercial the season has become - but frankly speaking, I don't care. It's all about colour and parties and feel-good factor. And gifts play a huge role in feeling good! *grin*
I used to compile this great big Xmas list for mum and dad right till I turned 17, but even though I don't list out stuff I want (WANT!) for Christmas anymore.... it's always a thrill.
What I do miss the most is doing up the Christmas Tree...
I wonder if there'll be a tree at either tonight or tomorrow's parties.... !
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Today, I went to lunch with the Traveller, and we talked about loads of things. While he promised he'd add me to his blogroll, he also accused me of not writing in as much as he does. And even though my first inclination was to deny that, I realised he was saying the truth. And the truth is, I've been wanting to blog, but not really sure about what. The fun stuff, the eating stuff, the movie stuff seems silly to blog about, especially since a lot has been happening in my personal life that I was worried about - and then I also didn't want to write about the personal stuff, because I didn't want to dwell too much on that. So the result was: nothing.
And the Traveller's words made me see that. And want to blog again. We met up for lunch at my all-time favourite Parsi restaurant and pigged out on Dhansak, sipped ice cold coffee at CCD, and then ambled over to Crawford Market. My first time inside there, and I was kinda wishing I had my digicam along, and was clicking pictures as enthusiastically as the Traveller was. (yes, yes, even though I teased him repeatedly about it, saying he needed sunshades and a cap to complete the Jap tourist look)... and it was fun. I had a great time playing City Guide.
Work was a scorcher, though, and I wonder why I don't shoot my clients straight out. I remember asking the Infatuator in Delhi, to send over hitmen to kill off my whole coterie of clients... and then reality sinks in, and I realise mine is a commission-driven job. No clients = no money. And that means, no shopping and walking around Crawford Market carefree.
So, it doesn't matter that the Love is gone. Here's to more carefree walks in Bombay.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Suddenly I find myself swamped with Infatuation. I'm the teenage boy again, hooked onto something that feels like his first crush, and I love the feeling. Love hoping I'll get a call, thinking about finally gettting that kiss on my lips, about maybe a grope here, a touch there, a long sigh exchanged after spending four hours together walking by the ocean. And it's Infatuation.
An explosion of chemistry, and I'm not certain how it came by. That big bad ka-boom that somehow eclipsed the uncertainty and melancholy that I've been reeling under for the last couple of weeks - and for that diversion, I'm happy. I'm happy that the Infatuator has come into my life when I sorely needed diversion and resuscitation. What I'm scared about, is that the Infatuation has suddenly become my reason for smiling and fantasizing. Whatever happened to Love? I fear Infatuation may be trying to kill it...
And I fear that I'm not putting up a strong enough fight. I'm giving in. I'm liking giving in. It's helping me avoid uncomfortable questions like: why is there no phone call? is this going to work? is there still faith? And instead, I'm happy thinking bubblegum thoughts, drinking coffee and flirting across the table, showing Marine Drive, slurping ice cream, kissing in an ATM vestibule - a hurried kiss that mangled brains and thoughts and racing pulses and lips and tongues, but that seems so beautiful nonetheless. Conversations from a cell phone, when a flight is three hours late... and I'm thinking... how long does Infatuation last?
And I hope I don't find out too soon. Not... too soon, please God.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Ok, so its not really new that Bombay's now got this reputation/ image as the jumping-back-from-the-brink-of-disaster place. Yesterday when fresh riots broke loose in the far eastern suburbs, Mad Bawi was quite panicky, and stood glued in front of the television set. I commented, that she should be used to it by now. It was a bit strange, coming from someone like me - a resident of around two and a half years. But it's true. In the last year alone, we've seen horrific rains, riots, bomb blasts and riots again.
So after some time, Mad Bawi, Scatterbrained Colleague and I sat down and chattered about what we'd done last year, July 26th, on the night of the infamous deluge.
SC: "There was this colleague of mine who had to spend two whole nights at the office because he lived in Vashi!I stayed the first night over, myself."
MB: "Yea, and the office gave us food to tide us over for the night. It was so weird, wearing the same stuff, sleeping on the couch and the floor... what did you do, LivingHIGH?"
LH: "I crossed the road and went home to sleep."
Bit of an anticlimax? Well, that's the best part about living where I do. Not too far, and not too close either. But, yes Bombay's recent status as Danger Zone does seem a bit unnerving at times. I keep wondering what would happen if the train I'm travelling in were to explode - when would word get back to the people I love? Ok, so that's a morbid thought. And Bombaywallas have this newfound rep to uphold about the 'indomitable Bombay spirit'. That comes in, when you gape at the crowds hanging out of the trains the very next day, on your way to work. And that's when you think, all said and done, this city is mad, yaar... and you love it!