I find it funny to wish my parents a happy marriage anniversary. I find it funny because it is difficult to imagine that they hadn’t been together since eternity at the first place. In any case, my life didn’t exist till they got married – so wishing them a happy marriage anniversary is almost like talking to someone about the Jurassic era or about the Indian freedom struggle – you know these existed, but you can never really feel what they were like. So I find it funny but I wished them a few days ago anyway. I wished them because Sweety reminded me about their anniversary. And then dad told me, there was nothing to celebrate about without his children around. And then I thought I would sigh an aww. I didn’t. I just told him we had just met in Hyderabad and we shall keep meeting like that from time to time.
The anchor in the pink outfit on the Indian Idol stage in Himalaya mall yesterday was dressed in a pretty body-hugging dress. Her bum jutted out. Guys look at bums of girls when the bum juts out. Bum bum bole, masti me dole. LOL. That was sick. So I kept looking at her bum till I got bored and then I kept looking at the crowd. A mild brawl erupted near the weak barricade festooning the stage. Some dhishoon dhishoom and all that. The Indian Idol folks kept singing anyway. And soon even all the fray and stuff died down. And we got bored of the singing as well. So we left the place. Bali and I.
I have been feeling imprisoned since quite some time now. Nothing really gives “immense” pleasure. Chutki kinda sensed this when I spoke to her for like an hour day before. Chutki has got a nice job in Mumbai and I feel good about it.
Talking about Mumbai, I am planning to be there on 24th of July. It’s a Saturday. I have my birthday on Sunday. I am planning to throw a party and call everyone who cares to come – Tota, Maina, Sadhu, Chutki, Til. We will eat, drink, sing and dance. I will grow old some more. I will feel good about life. I might feel out of prison for a day may be.