Monday, November 16, 2009

A companion

I dedicate this piece of my writing to one of my closest friends back in S.P.Jain (others being my room mate J and a handful more).

She just lived a couple of rooms away from mine. She was a south Indian. She loved eating. She was a keen gymnast and a diet chaser (that is how we bonded). She adored trying out fashion and hair styles. She was always ready for a trip. She could pamper and withhold me. She was there when no one was. She was a companion.

I still remember the first time we met – she being from Vizag was enquiring me about Mumbai. Today, I am sure she loves Mumbai more than any city in the country (thanks to me! :P). I remember the times we vanished from hostel to escape the curfew, head to party and return the next morning unheard of by the guard. I remember how we would not eat the mess food and hog salads and veggies (and subway of course) to lose weightJ. I remember how I got her experience the first rain by marine lines. I cherish the times when we were the last ones to sleep and last ones to wake up and wonder,
[“hey good morning, what do we do for breakfast?”
“bitch its 2.30 in the afternoon – good afternoon!”
“ok – lunch”
“veg grilled sandwich w/o cheese and cutting chai?”
“done – I am ordering from vrindavan”
“alright – listen gym at 4pm today instead of 5pm?”
“I have to finish this assignment”
“when is the deadline”
“uh – yesterday :P”
“lol.. gym at 5pm it is!”], while the entire hostel is back in college attending classes. I love the way we reached examinations hall 15 minutes late and yet leave way before the end time.

I realized how important it is to have someone close by your side once she was gone (oh god! I sound like a lesbian! :P) I still call her up when I have a bad day, when I feel alone or when I overeat J

P.S: This post was due since your birthday – finally got the time - I love you, Prathi!


Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Opinion that mattered

I was asked to grow up. Yes, I was. And so shall it be. I will grow up.

But before that, I wanted to detain this experience and could not find a better place to do that than my age old rusted blog. So, this is about these perpetual arguments I keep having with this guy on the superiority of our respective cities. I don’t want to name the cities (no MNS to attack me, you see) but any one who is familiar with me WILL know what I am talking about.

Hence, we keep playing all our cards – weather, food, people, ocean, traffic, roads & infrastructure, night life, places to see and many other trump cards as well – so much so that once I ended up googling religiously whether iPhone 3G was released first in mine or his city. What came as a surprise is my addiction and arguments (which I have always won no matter what) seemed like a lame comeback most of the times. I do not want to accept that the wittiness on the other side was a little higher than me. Well, if you ask me why have the debate in the first place, I have no answer. It could be lack of anything to do, shortage of friends or just for entertainment – but yes, I firmly vouch for my city (and so does he)! As time moved, I realized that these arguments were not only futile but they were merely fact based judgments tuned to suit your case in point. To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of either.

Any city you live in just grows into you over a period of time and the attachment to the city and its people take root to what you call ‘patterns’. For me, when I feel the sea breeze on my face, the rhythm of the ocean and a book to read in the vantage point from where you can best take in the gold-stranded skyline, I finally exhale. So, when my city calls back, there is a fair chance that I miss the current city (and its people) equally. I don’t know. May be this is called ‘growing up’. But nevertheless, I am going to be the same prejudiced feminist city addict because that’s what connects me to this guy, this friend who also owns it himself without disguise.