heh

This pal of mine was once in a bike accident...where he and his friend had a few more drinks than warranted for the road, then clambered onto the Bullet enroute to point B. Only to be speedily unclambered because they hit something...he still doesnt remember what...and to find each other chuckling at the side of the road. Chuckling while the bike was still somersaulting to a rude halt by random compound wall.

I've heard better stories. I've unwittingly been part of some of them. But if I were to thoda detach oneself from one's life since college ended, the bike would be my plans, or even my expectations of the suburban life I'd chalked out. And I'm the one chuckling in the dust.

I wont go into the details of how things went awry...or even if they went awry. It's been somewhere between getting what you wished for...and being careful about what you wished for. One beautifully delivered curveball..this life as yet. Sometime soon...I may stop alleging in allegories and actually tell you what the fuck did happen...but not in a blog. Life's good times are just too precious to be poured out here and left to a hyperlink footnote. I'm thinking...a maxed out tape, a glass of the cold stuff, a plate of the hot stuff and a very superb bartender.

There is no point here. I'm okay. I've learnt to chuckle. Quite drily, too.


Currently listening : Paint it black , The Rolling Stones

Dancing in the dark

It's probably the beer. Or the prolonged lack of sleep. Maybe the solitude, or the emotional stasis. I may not especially be wanting to be in time for work tomorrow. Could even be the rush of belated epiphanies, that have hit me again, as ever, on a non descript little pub lane in Pali Hill. Or the fact that I just spent about 3 minutes alone staring at a kaleidoscopic dance of blinking lights on my street...my city preparing for Ganesh Chaturthi...at 2 am.

Maybe it's that epiphany that this wasnt supposed to be a space to impress you. Or to believe that the ladies would be flinging their panties at me any moment now. This is not the venue for a processed catharsis of everything I cant say in real life, it's not what I have to do when I'm sloshed and alone, and it's not an essay competition. I'm not telling you all this. I have to make sure I read it myself.

And I dont know how many other posts I've attributed to beer from the first line. Or how many blog posts about the blog you've already suffered. I do know how to shrug, though.

Yeah well. Cheers.


Currently listening : Beck - Chemtrails