Skip to main content

Goodnight, my someones....

Do friends help you get through the night? In the absence of cable TV, alcohol, or Gerald Durell, I think yes. They do.

Last night was the first night I had to spend alone. ALL alone. No music, no T.V., no funny books.

Now, the thing with Monday nights is that they come after Monday days. And Monday days are the stuff lumpy gravies or banana-flavored lip balms are made of. Tripe - blahed tripe.

So in tradition of all things dreary, my Monday morning was progressing ever so slowly. A fat, thick-waisted mollusc could have whizzed past me, done a figure eight, and come back after having dinner. My day was positively dripping boredom, one eternally dangling drop at a time.

And then, the office guy delivered a parcel at my table. He thumped it on my workstation and waited. 'Why is a new girl getting parcels in office?', he wondered. He could also be standing around to see just how fast I could rip paper. That is one of my few noteworthy virtues, by the way. My fingers can sear through layers, (untidily, of course – no point in being neat and destructive. What’s the point then?), leaving behind paper and pulp debris. It can get ugly. Me opening a parcel is not a sight for the faint-hearted.

From that torn paper womb, emerged a pretty gift-wrapped book. The wrapper was a dark green splattered with gold specks. Imagine a starry night sky rolling over a vivid, green forest and getting stuck on it. This precious wrapper was finished off with a cute, golden bow. It’s the sort of present you expect after someone in a fluffy, gauze dress has waved a wand over you.
After the imaginary star dust had settled, I gently plucked at the cello tape. The delivery guy sighed wearily and went away. Not a taker of dainty business, I suppose.

My friend, R, had sent me a Snoopy comic with Woodstock coming in and giving his two-bits every now and then.

It is so adorable. There’s this one strip that has Woodstock pushing a grocery cart laden with something. He comes and stops near Snoopy’s kennel, unloads his stuff, and goes away. Snoopy sees all this lying on top of his kennel. With his ears flopping at the side, he observes poker-faced, ‘Another one of those who leave the grocery carts behind.’

That little grocery cart is so cute. I doodled it behind the cheque I had to give my broker. He hasn’t noticed it yet, so as of now, things are good. And if things get ugly, then I’ll just get my own cart and take my stuff to somebody’s kennel (who’s sleeping on top of it, preferably.)

Then, it was time for lunch.

Za, my ex-roomie, and I had reached our table after toppling a few chairs on the way. We always do that. Her excuse is that she does it to avoid the chairs I topple. As for me, I just don’t notice anything that’s off-white and plastic. It’s an intrinsic fault, also hereditary, therefore irreversible.

Za breaks her papads in three equal pieces – one to nibble with her dal and rice, another to munch with her roti and vegetables, and the third to have as a savory dessert after the rest of the food is finished. Each of these papad pieces remind me of farmlands. I think of Vande Materam.

‘What does Materam mean?’, I ask.

‘It’s that hill station near Mumbai – people go there to trek and stuff.’

‘That’s Matheran.’

I softly hum ‘Vande Matheran’.

The docile-looking girl sitting next to us stuffs her floral hanky into her mouth and snickers away.

My friend rolls her eyes.

‘People are so weird here’, she says and spreads a little pickle on each of the papad fragments. Peasant uprising – the blood of the farmers. Marxism on a plate. Vande Matheran.

So, at night, when I felt the wistful fear of silence, I read the book R gifted. Smiled.

I thought of me as Snoopy, and Za as Woodstock. Laughed.

Lights out. Slept.

Comments

oglidonkee said…
Ahh well let me bring you back to reality .. there are five days in a week ... and you have 3 more left to go !
3 more deary days!!
Hey btw just a tip.. there is a place called Ten Downing Street... it is plub ...... pub n club all rolled into one ... a nice place to make friends albeit a lil on the weirder side!!!
Now i wonder what does that place have in common with Tony Blairs home


any guesses?

OD
Abhishek said…
good blog.
Khakra said…
ma'am, you ARE woodstock!
Janaki said…
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

Popular posts from this blog

First Impressions: How to Get Away with Murder (Netflix)

 I love courtroom dramas.  I love non-linear storytelling. I love thrillers. I love tender love stories that embellish such series of grit, grime, and blood. This series delivers on all counts, dips somewhat after a couple of seasons, gets uneven and predictable (when it is less courtroom and more drama) and then finishes strong. The series centers around Annalise Keating who is a fierce, black criminal lawyer who also teaches a class in criminal law (which she calls 'How to Get Away with Murder'). As a teaching methodology, she gets her class to weigh in on her live cases. Part of her strategy also involves picking a handful of promising students and have them work in her 'lab' where they get to help her in strenuous arguments and civil suits, etc. The plot thickens, a murder happens, people get involved, incriminated, incarcerated, and dead. I found a couple of characters in this cast to be really unlikeable - Michaela, Laurel, and Bonnie. After the first couple of se

That kind of a day, that kind of a thought

 It was Eid and Ekadashi today. Thus far, I have managed to keep the fast for Ekadashi. But we still have 2 hours to go so...let's see. I had this urge to go to a temple. There is a small one near my house. Today it was filled with people singing keertans. So I went to the  Iskcon. I like the temple. It's so big and bustling. It's organised and musical.  But today was very crowded. Usually I go to temples and do a quick pranaam without offering flowers or fruits. But I felt like buying a thali. I got one with some fruits, tulsi leaves and a single marigold flower that lay there like a fully energized petaled sun. There was a long queue and I was already feeling stressed in the pit of my stomach. But the line kept moving and just like that, I had my darshan and I got done.  I came out and thought of getting a flower for the pooja room in my home. I bought a lotus. The florist fluffed out the petals and it looked like a sweet little bird.  I caught an auto back and as is my n

A very bad mood

 I have been trying to sleep for a while but have not been able to. I am in a very bad mood. Turns out I am very averse to change. Things are crap.  Deep breaths are not helping. I am feeling very trapped. The anger and irritation is quite intense. Let me take a few moments to just quietly watch myself.  Works