Weekend Findings
The World Is Not Against You- It Is Indifferent.
The above sentence was intended at unpublished authors. Some people use it more loosely. As did someone this weekend. I don’t know whether I like indifference in people. Unfortunately, I have limited chances to find out. People tend to react strongly to me. Too strongly. And my reactions to them are most often quite mild.
Hence, T.O is not against you, he’s indifferent.
This is what someone told a friend, loud enough so I could hear, on Friday night- in a slightly inebriated state. At that time, I was Outside the Shack. Smashed. And NASTY. Even by my standards.
Things of note this weekend. Bought a kilo of mutton biryani – that’s one-kilo mutton in rice. For AD’s party. Attendance was thin. So ended up eating quite a bit. It was heavenly and I just couldn’t stop eating for a while. There was little else to do. I was outnumbered eight (media/ entertainment) to one (investment banker). For some time I tried to follow the conversation. Soon the only parts which could distract me from my Old Monk and Mutton Biryani were the references to whose doing who. I have always been a great believer of vicarious pleasure. Or jealousy.
Was made to talk to a "prospect" on Saturday morning. Somehow managed to have a sensible chat- after a heavy dose of Alka-Seltzers. Three-fourths of the talk-time was spent cribbing about a certain common client. She in an agency, me in the Bank. Wasn’t too bad. Actually, been in sales too long- can have a half hour chat with almost anyone. As long as we speak a common language. Was asked, again, whether I could speak Bengali. Said:“Bolte, podte, likhte paadi- kintu podte anek shomoy lage, jaa likhi taa keo podte pade naa aar onno karo hathe lekha podte paadi na”. Delivered this sentence in chaste Bengali. Without halting.
Later, Hemu and I went shopping. Discovered to our respective dismay that Levis no longer made 501s in sizes 38 and 28.
Spent Sunday morning walking around in Bandra. No cricket this time. Walking, thinking and talking to myself, I came to the conclusion. That the Bandra I live in is a shadow of the Bandra I loved when I moved here five years back. When the traffic from work was not so bad. When fewer roads were dug up- lesser one-ways. There were fewer options, and also were fewer new faces. And strangers who were there were just as likely to be sitting (please note) next to me in Toto’s or in the morning local train to Churchgate. When Lotus House Books was a regular haunt- after RV and I spent about six months trying to find it. Danai was typically with Moods. To be followed by Canara Bar. Precious Sunday afternoons spent bitching about the Bank. Softened to submission by Old Monk and/ or weed, pondering what it was that went into the Bandra water that made the women so desirable- behenchod, paani mein kuchh hai. Of course, when I was younger and more tolerant, less judgmental blah, blah, blah!!! (Moods- in the seven-sigma event that you’re reading this, I miss you too.) I think I should move to town. Some building near the sea. So does Debbie. With a swimming pool.
The evening was particularly hopeless. First, had an argument with Debbie on gay flicks in general and Brokeback Mountain in particular. To make things worse, I tried to explain my stand in these matters. Spent the next few hours in Viper’s place, where I burnt music while his Mom tried matchmaking for me (bio-data hain kya?). I laughed through the discussions knowing that both her sons have arranged their own marriages. About 8GB of music - which later didn’t play on my systems at home. Hell!!! In spite of a university rank in engineering, I have neither luck nor knack for gadgets and technology. Wandered off to watch a play near Kala Ghoda- Nu, Viper and me. No tickets. Went to sit and browse at Cha Bar. Again, no luck. Ended up buying books I didn’t really want- the power of the following combination of letters- SALE. FYI, the count of unread books at home is 31. Tried Inox, to watch a movie- nothing worthwhile at that moment (Mixed Doubles?). In sheer desperation went to Ruby Tuesday- the worst decision of the day. All evening the mono-minute a decision had been made- Nu seemed to have an alternative. So when she began to moan and groan that Pizzeria would’ve been a better alternative, I just snapped at her- something I haven’t done in a while- for no apparent reason. Kept drinking beer through the day and felt really weird over dinner with Angie and Co. Somewhat sick. They tried to talk me into a cholesterol test. Insisting that since my consumption didn’t show up around my waist (I have not grown out of a trouser in ten years), it must definitely be piling up in my nicotine constricted arteries. Tall ask. Thumps disclosed he has Triglycerides. Whatever that is. Seriously.
Slept. Fitfully.
The above sentence was intended at unpublished authors. Some people use it more loosely. As did someone this weekend. I don’t know whether I like indifference in people. Unfortunately, I have limited chances to find out. People tend to react strongly to me. Too strongly. And my reactions to them are most often quite mild.
Hence, T.O is not against you, he’s indifferent.
This is what someone told a friend, loud enough so I could hear, on Friday night- in a slightly inebriated state. At that time, I was Outside the Shack. Smashed. And NASTY. Even by my standards.
Things of note this weekend. Bought a kilo of mutton biryani – that’s one-kilo mutton in rice. For AD’s party. Attendance was thin. So ended up eating quite a bit. It was heavenly and I just couldn’t stop eating for a while. There was little else to do. I was outnumbered eight (media/ entertainment) to one (investment banker). For some time I tried to follow the conversation. Soon the only parts which could distract me from my Old Monk and Mutton Biryani were the references to whose doing who. I have always been a great believer of vicarious pleasure. Or jealousy.
Was made to talk to a "prospect" on Saturday morning. Somehow managed to have a sensible chat- after a heavy dose of Alka-Seltzers. Three-fourths of the talk-time was spent cribbing about a certain common client. She in an agency, me in the Bank. Wasn’t too bad. Actually, been in sales too long- can have a half hour chat with almost anyone. As long as we speak a common language. Was asked, again, whether I could speak Bengali. Said:“Bolte, podte, likhte paadi- kintu podte anek shomoy lage, jaa likhi taa keo podte pade naa aar onno karo hathe lekha podte paadi na”. Delivered this sentence in chaste Bengali. Without halting.
Later, Hemu and I went shopping. Discovered to our respective dismay that Levis no longer made 501s in sizes 38 and 28.
Spent Sunday morning walking around in Bandra. No cricket this time. Walking, thinking and talking to myself, I came to the conclusion. That the Bandra I live in is a shadow of the Bandra I loved when I moved here five years back. When the traffic from work was not so bad. When fewer roads were dug up- lesser one-ways. There were fewer options, and also were fewer new faces. And strangers who were there were just as likely to be sitting (please note) next to me in Toto’s or in the morning local train to Churchgate. When Lotus House Books was a regular haunt- after RV and I spent about six months trying to find it. Danai was typically with Moods. To be followed by Canara Bar. Precious Sunday afternoons spent bitching about the Bank. Softened to submission by Old Monk and/ or weed, pondering what it was that went into the Bandra water that made the women so desirable- behenchod, paani mein kuchh hai. Of course, when I was younger and more tolerant, less judgmental blah, blah, blah!!! (Moods- in the seven-sigma event that you’re reading this, I miss you too.) I think I should move to town. Some building near the sea. So does Debbie. With a swimming pool.
The evening was particularly hopeless. First, had an argument with Debbie on gay flicks in general and Brokeback Mountain in particular. To make things worse, I tried to explain my stand in these matters. Spent the next few hours in Viper’s place, where I burnt music while his Mom tried matchmaking for me (bio-data hain kya?). I laughed through the discussions knowing that both her sons have arranged their own marriages. About 8GB of music - which later didn’t play on my systems at home. Hell!!! In spite of a university rank in engineering, I have neither luck nor knack for gadgets and technology. Wandered off to watch a play near Kala Ghoda- Nu, Viper and me. No tickets. Went to sit and browse at Cha Bar. Again, no luck. Ended up buying books I didn’t really want- the power of the following combination of letters- SALE. FYI, the count of unread books at home is 31. Tried Inox, to watch a movie- nothing worthwhile at that moment (Mixed Doubles?). In sheer desperation went to Ruby Tuesday- the worst decision of the day. All evening the mono-minute a decision had been made- Nu seemed to have an alternative. So when she began to moan and groan that Pizzeria would’ve been a better alternative, I just snapped at her- something I haven’t done in a while- for no apparent reason. Kept drinking beer through the day and felt really weird over dinner with Angie and Co. Somewhat sick. They tried to talk me into a cholesterol test. Insisting that since my consumption didn’t show up around my waist (I have not grown out of a trouser in ten years), it must definitely be piling up in my nicotine constricted arteries. Tall ask. Thumps disclosed he has Triglycerides. Whatever that is. Seriously.
Slept. Fitfully.
posted by The One @ 4:04 PM
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