J marched in to my room an apple in hand around 11.30 pm. It was straight from a tree at Shimla according to her colleague. Half asleep, I had some bites and started yapping about her much awaited marriage. She had been to Mumbai to meet her would be in-laws.
I did not get sleep after she left and started flipping through the albums just to notice that we have no proper snaps together. We were always in some costume with blood red lips or even with moustaches ready to go on stage, on the stage or had just come down from the stage. In one snap, we were laughing wearing similar night dresses and in another, a pile of mehendi sat on our heads like a heap of cow dung as we displayed our not-so-lovely teeth. Some years later, I know they will be the best snaps we had together.
Her wedding is on the 22nd of Jan. She will be leaving Bangalore next month. Our days together are numbered now. My roomie is also planning to go home for Christmas. I cannot take leave for sure. Sometimes, I feel like relocating to a different city. I feel I have been clinging to this city obstinately for no reason. It is going to be a long cold winter for me. I’ll try to hold on to the warm memories.
Inspite of this despondency or melancholy, the funniest part is that the woman in me can’t help thinking what am I going to wear for the wedding? :-)
Watched The Motorcycle Diaries. It is the dramatization of a motorcycle road trip Che Guevara went on in his youth that showed him his life's calling. My heart went bling bling over Gael García Bernal (learnt his name just now). He rocks.
Read Africa-The worst place there is to be a woman - who somehow manage to carry that entire continent on their backs.