It so happened that I tagged along with my uncle to a medicalconference at one of the city's star hotels. Obviously, I didn't know a soul there. I was there for free food and drinks. During dinner, I realized the advantages of buffet. I filled up my plate and found a strategic location where I could listen to conversations of people around me. Not eavesdropping because the motive here was very different.
For simplicity sake, let's call it "motivated observation".
Anyways, let me recall a couple of conversations:
A lady dressed in blue: "I got a hairdo at Bounce. These days Ilook into the mirror and tell myself "You have no right to look so hot". A man looking stunning in his skin tight shirt that showcased hisbelly: "I went to Egypt last month. The package costme 48,000".
Two parallel conversations and me in between. Suddenly it struck me,"Since I am bored, why not have some fun at the expense of some people I may not meet again." So what I did is tie up the conversations. I started playing the tied conversations in my mind and this is how they sounded:
The lady: "I got a hairdo in Egypt at Bounce. It cost me 48,000.(It's insane. Egypt of all places for a haircut and it cost 48 freaking thousand bucks. what amazes me is the place. Egypt! Didn't know you could have a haircut costing as much as it did in the land of the Pharoahs where Mummies sleep and Daddies weep. Sorry,couldn't think of a better line!!)
The man: These days I look into the mirror and tell myself "You have no right to look so hot". (This is ridiculous. How can a man think he's hot when his waist is probably 40,could be 42 and definitely not less than 38? A man who's downing mugs of beer like there's no tomorrow! I thought "well the way he's going about his business, there won't be any tomorrow, only day after")
Its crazy. You tie up conversations and they sound funny and bizarre. So the next time you go to a place where you don't know anyone and are wondering how to kill time, you could probably listen to conversations.
P.S. A couple of sentences are invented. THe fact is that I went to a conference and tied up conversations.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Minutes of Dating
Time: 4-5 p.m on a cloudy Friday
Location: Awww! Park for lovers
Topic: Activities for Saturday
Members Present: Boy and Girl (other couples in the vicinity not taken into consideration)
Breakfast in Bed
Boy to get breakfast for girl while she is in bed. Breakfast should be brought before she opens her eyes next morning. (Gayaa re!!What if she doesn't sleep whole night?)
Girl to act surprised. “You are so sweet!!Did you make this all by yourself?”
Boy to say “No dear!! After you slept last night, I went to a hotel and managed to get some leftovers. I just heated them up”.
Movie in the afternoon
Boy and girl to watch Indian Superman (duh!) Krish in the afternoon.
Boy to become superman after the movie. Girl doesn't become superwoman. She stays the boy's lover.
Drop girl home after dinner
Boy to drop girl home after dinner. Not superman style because boy becomes superman for only two hours after the movie
Girl to give him a parting peck on the cheek (note: cheek) and say “ I miss you so much!!Wish I could stay with you tonight”, to which the guy has to reply “ You know that's not possible! Hitler (nickname of Boy's dad) and Jayalalitha (nickname of Boy's mum) are back tonight.
Deliverables
To whom?
By whom?
By when?
Headache
Girl's dad
Boy
Starting Saturday night
Heartache
Earthquake
Girl's mum
Boy's mum & dad
Boy
Boy or girl or both
Starting Saturday night
Starting Sunday Morning*
* News will not revealed to Boy's parents on Saturday evening because they will be exhausted after their journey.
Location: Awww! Park for lovers
Topic: Activities for Saturday
Members Present: Boy and Girl (other couples in the vicinity not taken into consideration)
Breakfast in Bed
Boy to get breakfast for girl while she is in bed. Breakfast should be brought before she opens her eyes next morning. (Gayaa re!!What if she doesn't sleep whole night?)
Girl to act surprised. “You are so sweet!!Did you make this all by yourself?”
Boy to say “No dear!! After you slept last night, I went to a hotel and managed to get some leftovers. I just heated them up”.
Movie in the afternoon
Boy and girl to watch Indian Superman (duh!) Krish in the afternoon.
Boy to become superman after the movie. Girl doesn't become superwoman. She stays the boy's lover.
Drop girl home after dinner
Boy to drop girl home after dinner. Not superman style because boy becomes superman for only two hours after the movie
Girl to give him a parting peck on the cheek (note: cheek) and say “ I miss you so much!!Wish I could stay with you tonight”, to which the guy has to reply “ You know that's not possible! Hitler (nickname of Boy's dad) and Jayalalitha (nickname of Boy's mum) are back tonight.
Deliverables
To whom?
By whom?
By when?
Headache
Girl's dad
Boy
Starting Saturday night
Heartache
Earthquake
Girl's mum
Boy's mum & dad
Boy
Boy or girl or both
Starting Saturday night
Starting Sunday Morning*
* News will not revealed to Boy's parents on Saturday evening because they will be exhausted after their journey.
Saturdays sprint, Sundays fly!!
I actually thought of saying Saturdays fly, Sundays sprint. But I stuck to the above because there is some kind of rhythm, a kind of attitude about it.
Fridays are spent bringing in the Saturday. So when you get up at 9.00 , you are already thinking “damn! It’s already 9.” You try to get out of bed but by the time you manage to get out of the many layers of sheets that have (literally) weighed you down, your eyes close and you tell yourself “It’s a Saturday. Another hour of sleep won’t do you any harm”. So another hour is actually 3 hours and at 12, you stretch yourself, get out of bed, drink the coffee (which has already been heated 4 times) and hit the shower.
As the bathroom singer in you is at its very best (so good that you could release an album titled (s) tone deaf), you suddenly remember you are running late for a lunch. You hurriedly get out of the shower, almost slip, half dry yourself, lie to your friend that you are on your way as you are getting into your jeans and then actually live the lie.
Getting to the place is as easy as finding a place to sit in a crowded bus. As you live through the honks and the tanks (water tankers) and finally reach the place, your shirt sticks to your back making you wonder whether it’s the water (remember the half dry routine) or the sweat.
The lunch lasts exactly an hour. You eat exactly for 10 minutes. The rest of the time is spent in talking everything about the sun including about the sun. And then, a casual glance at the 100 year old clock makes you feel even older. It’s already 4.
You hit the road trying to catch up with time. It never happens. You curse the traffic, almost hit a dog, just about kiss a lorry. You also wish you were an artist (to paint the red light permanently green). By the time you get home, have a shower (and properly dry yourself), it’s time to head out again - this time to catch up with a few friends who think they grow wiser under the influence of alcohol.
Once you are buzzed or flushed with alcohol, food beckons. The best gobi Manchurian in the world (all cold and exactly 2 days old) kills your appetite so that the ghee rice is anything but edible. As you say ciao to your friends and head home, you wonder where the day went. The thought stays with you till you fall asleep.
And then…Sunday dawns bright and clear just when your dreams become brighter. As your dream takes to you to only where dreams can take you (to a house filled with beautiful maidens), the sun decides to play spoil sport. You get up with a start, rub your eyes, stare at the yellow colored walls and try to figure out where you are. The clock strikes 11 and your journey to reality is complete.
As your drag yourself out of bed, hit the shower and embrace reality (sigh), its time to step out for lunch. The roads are pretty empty. A cow crosses the road; a dog hits the wheel (to pee of course!). You meet a couple of friends for lunch and talk about the previous day (our obsession with the past cripples our present so that the present can only be talked about in the past).
By the time you hit the road again, its time for coffee. Now, coffee on Sundays is an expensive affair because one’s got to pay for the ambience in addition to the watery, coffee like coffee. As you tell yourself that every sip was worth it, another part of you says “you know it’s not worth it. Who are lying to?”
As you recover from the (lack of) caffeine kick, its time to head home. You say bye to your friends promising to meet in a couple of days. You get home, watch some inane movie on TV where the villain looks better and bigger than the hero and yet gets beaten up (this can happen only in movies). The hero wears tight T shirts showing off his flab and gets to romance the heroine who is young enough to be her grand daughter.
As the credits run past you, you get up, tell yourself (yet again) not to watch some stupid movie, sprint though your dinner and hit the bed thinking how short the weekend was.
Fridays are spent bringing in the Saturday. So when you get up at 9.00 , you are already thinking “damn! It’s already 9.” You try to get out of bed but by the time you manage to get out of the many layers of sheets that have (literally) weighed you down, your eyes close and you tell yourself “It’s a Saturday. Another hour of sleep won’t do you any harm”. So another hour is actually 3 hours and at 12, you stretch yourself, get out of bed, drink the coffee (which has already been heated 4 times) and hit the shower.
As the bathroom singer in you is at its very best (so good that you could release an album titled (s) tone deaf), you suddenly remember you are running late for a lunch. You hurriedly get out of the shower, almost slip, half dry yourself, lie to your friend that you are on your way as you are getting into your jeans and then actually live the lie.
Getting to the place is as easy as finding a place to sit in a crowded bus. As you live through the honks and the tanks (water tankers) and finally reach the place, your shirt sticks to your back making you wonder whether it’s the water (remember the half dry routine) or the sweat.
The lunch lasts exactly an hour. You eat exactly for 10 minutes. The rest of the time is spent in talking everything about the sun including about the sun. And then, a casual glance at the 100 year old clock makes you feel even older. It’s already 4.
You hit the road trying to catch up with time. It never happens. You curse the traffic, almost hit a dog, just about kiss a lorry. You also wish you were an artist (to paint the red light permanently green). By the time you get home, have a shower (and properly dry yourself), it’s time to head out again - this time to catch up with a few friends who think they grow wiser under the influence of alcohol.
Once you are buzzed or flushed with alcohol, food beckons. The best gobi Manchurian in the world (all cold and exactly 2 days old) kills your appetite so that the ghee rice is anything but edible. As you say ciao to your friends and head home, you wonder where the day went. The thought stays with you till you fall asleep.
And then…Sunday dawns bright and clear just when your dreams become brighter. As your dream takes to you to only where dreams can take you (to a house filled with beautiful maidens), the sun decides to play spoil sport. You get up with a start, rub your eyes, stare at the yellow colored walls and try to figure out where you are. The clock strikes 11 and your journey to reality is complete.
As your drag yourself out of bed, hit the shower and embrace reality (sigh), its time to step out for lunch. The roads are pretty empty. A cow crosses the road; a dog hits the wheel (to pee of course!). You meet a couple of friends for lunch and talk about the previous day (our obsession with the past cripples our present so that the present can only be talked about in the past).
By the time you hit the road again, its time for coffee. Now, coffee on Sundays is an expensive affair because one’s got to pay for the ambience in addition to the watery, coffee like coffee. As you tell yourself that every sip was worth it, another part of you says “you know it’s not worth it. Who are lying to?”
As you recover from the (lack of) caffeine kick, its time to head home. You say bye to your friends promising to meet in a couple of days. You get home, watch some inane movie on TV where the villain looks better and bigger than the hero and yet gets beaten up (this can happen only in movies). The hero wears tight T shirts showing off his flab and gets to romance the heroine who is young enough to be her grand daughter.
As the credits run past you, you get up, tell yourself (yet again) not to watch some stupid movie, sprint though your dinner and hit the bed thinking how short the weekend was.
Hmm...
The little boy in tatters; the old woman leaning against the pole; the kids with their stunts; the man with his goggles; the woman with her baby; yet another woman with her husband…oh, they have stories to tell. I too want to be part of their stories. What is their story? Who pens their stories? Why are they acting in it? Why am I not a part of it? Do I want to be a part of it?
A big car, a small car, a bike, a cycle, people walking, people sitting, shops on either side, the red light turning yellow and finally green, the honks, the shift to first gear and then the take off…reminds me of an athlete all set for the race of his life.
The jog in the park as I am chasing something in my mind, the trees, the leaves, the music, the sun’s rays, the sweat, the beginning, the end…….am I pursuing or chasing something?
A big car, a small car, a bike, a cycle, people walking, people sitting, shops on either side, the red light turning yellow and finally green, the honks, the shift to first gear and then the take off…reminds me of an athlete all set for the race of his life.
The jog in the park as I am chasing something in my mind, the trees, the leaves, the music, the sun’s rays, the sweat, the beginning, the end…….am I pursuing or chasing something?
The giant vending machine
People walking in and walking out….Input, input, input….output, output…input….They remind me of vending machines. The only difference is its like for like. Input people, output people. Not input coins, output coke.
Life has become such a giant vending machine. People pay money and in turn expect to look better, feel better. Input money, output possibilities.
Life has become one program. One program runs like this.
10 Start
20 Input “money”
30 Enter “store”
40 Create possibilities
50 Become a possibility
60 Exit “store”
70 End of chapter 1
80 Input “money”
90 Enter “store”
The inputs are never ending. The possibilities are never good enough. So input, input, input..output, output…not good enough, so input, input, input.
Life has become such a giant vending machine. People pay money and in turn expect to look better, feel better. Input money, output possibilities.
Life has become one program. One program runs like this.
10 Start
20 Input “money”
30 Enter “store”
40 Create possibilities
50 Become a possibility
60 Exit “store”
70 End of chapter 1
80 Input “money”
90 Enter “store”
The inputs are never ending. The possibilities are never good enough. So input, input, input..output, output…not good enough, so input, input, input.
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