The Un-Weekend

Disclaimer: I feel like writing, but my brain wont comply. Sorry for the random string of sentences.

In the almost six months in Mumbai, the tiny excuse of a weekend that I have after working every Saturday has more or less fallen into a tried and tested pattern.

Someplace nice, loud, and late on Saturday, sleep through the next day, out for coffee or dinner again on Sunday.

And then came this weekend.

Random.

The one begging to be different.

And so after yet another useless day at work, I walked home, took a nice refreshing shower, and plonked down in bed.

With a book. After a very very long time. And in bed I stayed. With the book. All evening till midnight.

P.S. Shantaram, I love you.

And I slept…by far the earliest ever on a Saturday.

And hence I woke up, earlier than the rest of the denizens of my age, 10 AM, on Sunday.

And for once I didn’t wait for the others to wake up. For once I didn’t plan. For once I just set out.

Alone.

It’s a funny experience. Made even funnier by the fear and trepidation in our heads I feel.

I watched a movie. And then I headed out for lunch. The much awaited, much craved for pepper chicken steak. Finally!

So people stared. So the waiter asked me twice if I wanted just a place for one. So my food came extremely fast, maybe to clear out the single person occupying the place for two.

But I smiled. It was amusing. I wondered what they were thinking. And it amused me even more.

And then he came. My first love.

That beautiful pepper chicken steak.

And nothing else mattered.

I tipped well, I smiled at the waiters, and I walked home.

Oh, and its nice to walk, when its by choice!


And there was so much more I loved about the day for one. I didn't have to shut any one up during the movie. I didn't need to smile and make small talk. I didn't have to care about where the other person wanted to eat, or what cuisine s/he liked. And I could dedicate myself wholeheartedly to my food, without distractions.

Afternoon was spent cozying up with Shantaram again, and he didn’t disappoint.

Evening was out shopping for necessities with Roomie.

The night ended with a blueberry cheesecake.

And a day which ends with a blue berry cheesecake, is a day well ended indeed.

Note: This annoying, weird post goes out to all those who laughed and doubted.

The Other Shreya

Funny funny things happen in people’s lives.

So a colleague of mine would often mention that she has another friend called Shreya, who was actually like me and looked like me. And I would respond, well the way most people respond to such statements - which are made rather often I assume – by smiling and changing the topic.

Sure, you have a tall friend who’s called Shreya. Ooooh….so totally my twin!!

And then she showed me the other Shreya’s facebook profile. And other pictures. And…erm….I’m assuming for at least this once a picture really is worth a thousand words.

So, introducing, the other Shreya….…….

The Other Shreya!

My granny says that everyone has one other person in the world who looks exactly the same…humshakal as they say. Of course it’s highly possible that particular theory evolved from this thing called Bollywood..with the Don’s etc. of the movie world.

Then there is of course the Kumbh ka Mela theory. My twin? But with the same name?? Did we get separated and confused about which one was who??

And I hope the other Shreya doesn’t stumble across my blog and sue me for using her picture. But if she does, before she gets really angry, I’d just like to ask…isn’t this a tad wee bit freaky???

And more importantly…

Do you have any issues with bad luck in your life?

The..ahem... Original Shreya

A Hold

She had that funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. Rare. A sense of giddiness, a mismatch between reality, and the perception of it. Everything was floating, and then moving, a little too fast, for her to get a hold of them.

Tears were shed, sympathetic looks exchanged, goodbyes ringing in her ears. But this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She had worked too hard for these three days. Too hard.

She looked up through the haze as the auto honked, waiting to bid her farewell. She slowly started towards it, away from the three days she had dreamt about for months. The giddiness increasing, the mismatch, reaching epic proportions.

Somehow her legs stopped moving. It took her a few seconds to register what had happened. And then it hit her, washed over her in waves so strong that thoughts were no longer prevalent.

She turned around. She was conscious of walking fast, very fast, in a direction never intended, tracing her steps back to the one place she stayed away from. She felt her hand rise of its own accord, and knock.

A creak of the bed. A rustle of the bed sheet. The click of the latch.

He looked at her.

She looked at him.

And for a second, everything made sense, and maddened all senses beyond control.

She held him. Tight. For dear life.

Energy. Emotion. Assurance.

For one brief instant, thoughts and emotions, presence and absence, solid and amorphous blended into one, screaming in pain, crying with elation.

And then she turned around and left. Left an ever-blurring world behind.

There were no thoughts anymore. Just the feeling of the last touch.

A few seconds, an eternity.

A secret unleashed by two souls, caged and tortured by their bodies.