O-bla-di-bla-da

Young fathers really do it for me. Especially if they wear aviators and drive Maruti 800s and wear blue jeans and black t-shirts with an ever so slight paunch. Always a little bored, a little late, a little credulous. Tempestuous affair here I come.

Yes, I do know time and other things have happened. STILL.

Need to be next to you

~ The day I'll buy a string of pearls and the places I'll wear them and who I'll be then - who'll love me, what I'll be reading. I'll be wearing sarees, carrying folders and a bun maybe, heels definitely and have a student stalker who joins me for evening walks on campus.

~ Bling Balis, maybe diamonds, maybe with something written across them and I'll fit right in with the Honslow crowd - noon rave parties in basements et all.

~ And the time I start wearing hats, and loose vests, long threads across my neck, silver chains and carry a jute bag. Chappals and sand. Ocean breeze salty.

~Dungarees, preferably shorts with that dungaree flap, bandanas and shell earrings. Red beads for a red undervest and blue stones for a blue top. Chai just tastes better in the mountains.

I have too many pretty things, which I love.

The last thing on earth I want to do is go shopping for office wear.

The first 27 seconds of High and Dry

There is this boy. Man even, he must be 26 atleast. The first - first memory I have of him is him crying. We had gone on a holiday to Munnar, this place somewhere is south India, very beautiful etc. etc. and we were travelling in our brown Maruti Van. The children (me, this fellow, his brother) were put into the dicki (sister was in Mums lap.) We stopped for a picnic meal and went into the jhadi to pee etc. When we came back there were leeches on the soles of our feet, those slimy mofos got in THROUGH our shoes. Everyone was freaking out, and I remember very clearly, these two howling at the back. I was fascinated by these black crawling creatures and picked them off their feet. That was one.

His name is Tiku, I don't even know his real name - we all had nicknames, Tiku, Mishi, Campu, Trinka, Inu, Manna, Timbo, Shashu, Minnie, Tinnie etc. Recently Campu got married and when the wedding card came, Dad was like - who is this Aashti? Oh Campu? Yes, her only.

We lived in the same colony several times, but the last time, he stayed below, and I don't know how exactly - meeting here and there, once in awhile, we became friends. Needless to say we bonded big time over the gods playing guitar. He said he'd burn a couple of CDs for me, and I never thought much about it, when one day at around 10p.m. - I was in my room? or in the loo? and he rang the bell and someone answered and he left RATM, The Joshua Tree, The Beatles, Radiohead and Nirvana Discography et all on the dining table. Till today, after several heartbreaking hard drive crashes with total and complete music collection loss, I still have these CDs and boot up from them.

There was also a girl, and I could see everything from above, our terrace. He had a little white Maruti 800, and he's reverse with a swerve and zoom off - now this was the time I didn't know how to drive and I was utterly jealous, of the freedom, the erotic pleasure to just get in and drive and drive, anywhere, everywhere. Especially when we had to go for these parties, with Mom and Dad and stay the whole boring time, but he’s come later, as late as possible, just before the food was being served, eat and leave. Anyway, one day he brought a girl back. She was wearing a full length skirt and had sort of wavy longish hair that was left open. The house was locked, he knew that I think, because he went straight back to the servant quarters to get the key from the maid. I saw them go in, come out, get into the car and drive off again. All this I'm remembering now, I didn't even know I had this memory. He’s not that kind of a guy though, damn sharif, really, not at all what you’re thinking, but obviously this registered in my subconscious.

Technically, his brother (Mishi) and I are supposed to be friends, because we're born the same year, gave our boards together and all that, but maybe it's just me but I do not like him. He's plump and thinks he's damn funny and is always, always on the phone/messaging a different girl.

When we went to their place for dinner once, he coolly put alcohol into all our soft drinks. I love how rum can be colourless.

Then we were at this Sangeet, Aashti's only, and it COMPLETELY slipped my mind that he'd be there. So I was lurking behind the bar, trying to stay as far away from the Mehndi person as possible, smiling in what I hope was a pleasant manner, because I wasn't trying to be stuck up honest! He sees me first, he's wearing a corduroy jacket and he does this turn and goes, Oh hello, and I'm like HI! I'm so glad to see you kinda hi, and he said you're looking very pretty, and I dunno, people don't say that very often, so I was like oh, er..ok, thankyou. It was nice, we chatted, I stayed for just like half an hour (because now I'm the ninja who can leave early huzzah!) but I had a good time, was smiley the whole way back.

We once had this conversation about New York. I know we say these cities names over and over again, dreaming, wishing, fantasizing, until they have no meaning anymore, but he was talking about it and saying “I’d really like to go there - from what I've read and heard, for me, it’d be the ultimate.” As ridiculous as this may sound, I really believe him. Because he's a doctor now, and really not the reading type, and I really want to know, what exactly makes him want to go there, and which is the first place he’d visit. I don’t have to think too hard, it’s obviously music related. That much I know.

I have this conviction, it's so real I can't explain it, that I'm walking down this NY street and bump into him and it’s getting to be late evening and we’re both kind of free and we go to this roc nrolla, nyc band playing hub kinda bar. Who knows where that night will take us. It just seems so perfect, I almost don't want to meet him before that.

I know it will happen. I just do. Maybe I've overdosed on the One Hundred Years of Solitude - butterflies following a man, children born with pigtails, and dead people traffic.

Maybe, but it will happen.

Dil pe maat le yaar

Just like that. I know exactly who's sitting beside me also. Bliss.