Memory #6

Early days of the first stint of freelancing.

Scheduling client meetings in the afternoons to benefit from empty roads and window seats in buses or local trains. 

But usually tired and cranky because I would work through the night and get only 2-3 hours of shut-eye before the meetings. 

Loved the heavy sleep in the hour long travel time. Would meet clients rested but craving coffee and snacks. Worked harder for clients who provided both.

One such trip. Was in the bus that went to Borivali from Vashi. I had to get down in Goregaon East. Looked forward to the trip because I was meeting a friend after and we were going to head out for drinks and dinner. 

Sat by the window, paid for my ticket, put my head down on the railing in front of me, and slept off. Luscious, thick sleep. Summer and heat outside. Play of shadows as the bus moved under trees. 

I woke up in the groggy state of half-sleep as the bus was passing by Powai. Saw the Powai lake. Glistening like it had a sheer shimmering fabric of rhinestones on it. It dazzled. And there was something else. Beyond the glaze of the water and light, the world felt like it was receding. It felt as if this whole world was something that was painted onto cellophane. That if you reached out and poked it with a sharp object, it would rip. And something else lay beyond. 

That feeling and that memory is so vivid. This world and all this stuff we do or don't do - it's all beautiful, flimsy, and ready to be peeled off.