Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Round and round the mulberry bush, mulberry bush..mulb..

I hadn't expected last evening to turn out like it did. No biggie, but I hadn't catered for driving past the office building and seeing this girl standing on the road flagging an auto. She's not a rival, only because we're both intelligent. She is the other girl, and the stupid fellow did mistake me for her once, called me by her name. But those were early tears, now outdated, and way irrelevant.

Last evening, smog, traffic, horns, and lady in question wearing giant hoop earrings, snug tee, tight-ass fitted into cargos, which I thought were wa-ay out of fashion. Hair, pony-tailed -- high and accessorised with bright clips. Lots of ear piercings. How'd you ever caress that sort of metal? This is/was the girl the boy is/was interested in.

I didn't think anything. I saw her, simply slowed down, and loudly screamed out her name. She was plugged in, but looked around. Now, I'm in the driver's seat, sort of surprised at myself and rethinking my own magnanimous stupidity. I call boy. Are we both on your speed dials by the way? No, you said, right? You'd removed me, but as of Sunday squash, back on the scene?. Anyhow, I tell him to call (t)his girl and let her know that I'm pulled up just a little ahead, and she can get a ride. I'm not distant. Boy is surprised, hems haws, tells me to let it be. I hang up before he finishes, and I reverse on that clogged road. To her.

I don't know what I was thinking. Surprises me more now. Bloody hell. But through the window rolled down last evening, I say: you want to come to Khan. She says sure, can't harm. We smile at each other and exaggerate a "so whats been uppppp". Like we don't know, and resent the other for.

A beggar at the traffic light makes it unnecessary for either of us to say anything initially. She buys the Tehelka, hands grubby faced kid a tenner, and goes on to make small talk with the beggar girl who declared she had a bath today. I swear I always thought this she-urchin was a boy! Twinge felt then...that things like these is/are probably what he meant about some goodness type virtue in her. Ugh! Fuck you both. But then you already were each other, I'm just giving you a lift.

Light turns green, more work-talk, how is life. What do you say. I tell her I just called the boy (we have him in common -- but I had him first) to get him to tell you (her) that I was pulled over up head and she could get a ride..

Strange dynamics. Man Singh Road. Roundabout has pretty flowers, ah spring, I smile to myself, momentarily forgetting petty lives. She talks about reccos and LSE. Me, about my stories for this week. She talks about how boring it is to read blogs. I think of some to suggest, but can't. He doesn't like blogs either. Doesn't see the need, the point, the unnecessary cultivation of commentors.

She tells him on chat later that she thought of herself as rambling. This, he tells me later. I didn't ask, but when brought up, I probe. At Khan, I was to meet a colleague. I do, their introductions as well. Behind her back, my colleague gesticulates a silent-mouth "WHAAA..?!" heh. I felt a knot in my brain dissolve. Amused-perspective does that?

So there was no cat fight. We didn't talk about him. She didn't say she hated me. Of course not. I don't suppose I do either. She's cute. In a little pink rabbit sort of way. I can imagine what he must've seen in her. And its a half sinking feeling, whether I ever ever ever admit to jealousy or not. I've read their messages and fuck imagining, I know spooning up to her was snug..

I know I have no right to hold any of this against her. Or him. He has more of a right to hold it against me me, for I haven't been twiddling my thumbs these last few weeks. (Make it months. And throw in a boy nicknamed Law) But his name didn't come up. We didn't let it? His. Jesse James'. For this boy wonder loves fancying himself as an old fashioned outlaw. And never mind how that tickles me, but back in that space -- Khan parking lot -- undercurrents had to have been felt. She checked her phone. I didn't wonder. Or I told myself that. My phone beeped. She saw me glance at it..dog chase tail, that's what this is. Featuring one big cat, and lots of fornicating mice.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

:D

u write well!

-

http://chandni.wordpress.com

mistercrowley said...

Confucious say woman who run behind car, gets exhaust-ed.....
Um...yes, we are rambling on....it's a rambly sorta day.
Nice, thoughtful post, yes.

Perakath said...

Aye ma'am, you do write well... You should get a job that involves these writing skills...

Nimpipi said...

Anon/Chandni: waah! thank you. :D

MC: Rambly sorta thankoo as well.

Per: Shukriya, dhanyavaad, badi meherbaani. You go translate, I'll consider your suggestion.

Perakath said...

Sanskrit, Hindi, Urdu. :P

Anonymous said...

stupid rich kids.

Nimpipi said...

Per: well done.

Anon: are you what they call a troll? wow. Stupid -- well maybe. Rich??

Be sweet next time, will you; i couldn't be bothered to moderate the two and a half comments.

Mayonnaise Toss said...

You are too kind.I would probably just zip by and splash the puddle right at her. *grin*
but seriously,you r too nice.