If

Behind the door, she waited, she sighed and she debated. Between being happy and wanting to be happy. He's outside, parking the car, with a bouquet and a chocolate bar. Does he think he's had too much of this life or is he hanging on too?

What if the unkown boy of the future,
was the known boy in the past.

She loved him, but he lied. Told her he loved her and then he smiled. She saw through it all and brought it to a close. Time to move on, she’s with the next boy she wanted to know.

What if what you thought were lies,
you later found was truth.

He knew he was smart. College honours, high class job and the wit to go along. But the looks couldn’t keep up and the women went for the pretty ones. Nice boys finish last.

What if when wisdom comes,
everything else fades.

She finally smiled, opened the door, took the chocolate and the orchids. Said hey ho and kissed him on the side. Life’s too long to complain, over a few broken hearts and the one that got away.

What if...what if the unkown boy you waited for,
would be the boy that never showed.

Yellow Submarine

She never misses the chance to glance into someone else’s purse, hoping to catch a glimpse of their lives.
Sometimes when they’re not looking, she lets her gaze linger on.

He searches for horoscopes at the beginning of each month, trying to to find the one that fits right. He soaks it in and gets ready.

We all live in our yellow submarines.

Somebody Told Me

Ever noticed how the third song in any (or should it be most) album is the best of the lot. I’ve heard tell of this for a while now. Straight from the horses (read artists) mouth at times too. And now, I’ve tested it out as well. Random sampling has been implemented and the jury is in. All of them. Whatever.

The third song is the best.

Irrefutable proof? Thats crazy talk now.
No proof. Just me and the jury. We’re incestuous that way.

That was always going to be easy though. The tough part is figuring out which is the second best. Bugger!

Ok then... we’re going out again. The jury, me and our best friend - random sampling.

Yet Another Movie

Movie laundry days! I miss those movie laundry days. Take a ticket, get into a hall, see the movie, see another movie, see another movie. 3 for the price of 1. Bargain. No. Movie laundry days. (You get through all the clothes you want to clean in one whole day.....get it)

Saw Saawariya, Darjeeling Limited and Across the Universe. In that order.

You know, even if I was your enemy, I wouldn’t wish Saawariya on you. I’m nice that way. Its worse than a James Blunt song. I kid you not.

Don't Let Me Down

Alright then. Sucker for requests I am - but I think this attention thing can be dangerous. Don't spoil me.

Anyway.

hmm...12 days....where to begin.

JFK, new Air India plane, very very fancy, Delhi airport, home in south delhi.

The wedding was in full swing and I sort of jumped in. The adrenaline rushing around is just brilliant in these gatherings, what with arranging the pick ups, the drop offs, the ghodi, the marriage car, the reception, co-ordinating with people etc etc. Frankly I was surprised with the faith that was entrusted on me. One mistake and things could run off keel any minute. But fear not fellow worrier, the faith wasn’t misplaced. The america-returned boy done good.

“Bhabhi”, had 3 friends. Instant liking to 2 of them was shown (I think I fall in love easily, its the getting out thats always been tough....) Fickle you say. Fine, I’ll take that.

So 2 I said. One was of the cute, girl next door kind. The other, the smart, witty, no bullshit, knows what she wants, the one that you want kind. Anyway, murphy’s law intervened, I mentioned the girl next door to my cousin when prodded (I suppose it was the fear of being alienated by the no bullshit girl by being told she’s fancied...you know what I mean...yes you do.) The cousin said he’d keep it a secret and help, but he was such a girl! Very next day, I was linked and teased and linked again..all very publicly. It was fun the whole attention thing I must say. Had to play along, what to do, she was cute after all.

Next time, not that there are any cousins left to be married off, I shall keep mouth shut or develop balls to talk to no bullshit.

Again, fear not fellow worrier (I don’t know what this really means or who I refer to, but I think its funky, so it shall stay and be repeated every now and again)....we’re facebook friends now....I suppose thats a step in the right direction. The long distance sucks though. Oh but Facebook friends with both. Sigh. Choices. Wink.

But man, my aunties, oh the roving eyes of my aunties, the all seeing....they saw it all...they spread it all. Within minutes, I was asked “those” questions, the whens the whys....I thought only girls had to put up with this shit. Sigh.

1 day later, Indira Gandhi Airport, old Air India plane, very very pathetic, London, 3 days later, Heathrow, same shitty Air India plane, gay architect with present from Chandni chowk for his husband, JFK.

Posters

Ah..back.
Not particularly happy to be back.
But back nonetheless.

12 days is so much to write about that I’m not going to. It shall still though, be noted that twas interesting beyond my expectations. There was responsibility, Delhi driving, a girl, delhi shopping, lots of alcohol, family hugging, family bitching, London stopping on the way over and of course the way over. And now its all over.

Interestingly, on the flight over and the flight back, both times, I was seated next to a gay guy. Apparently the probability of that is not small.The first guy could easily be considered on the handsome side of life and I was happy to see him out of the competition, though we never talked much. The second was an architect, lives very close to my neighbourhood and kept talking about his husband. For 8 hours. I liked him.

“Straight Single men like you are getting rarer and rarer, while straight single women are still a plenty” - gay architect.
Says the man who bought indian sweets from chandini chowk for his husband.

Watching Snatch. Going to burn 5 candles now for choti Diwali.