Thursday, July 10, 2008

Diary dearest: got locked out of home at midnight, twiddled thumbs for sixty.

All the while pouring cursed-luck type sleepy rant into phone note pad:
(I love my E-51, by the way.)

Nothing like bloody forced introspection time. Full 45 minutes of it, and more. It's what you get when you're locked outside your 15th floor home, house key less, and your one girlfriend's words are ringing clear:

serves you right DLF bitch, ha ha woman, HA HA.

Hai raam. Could've aaram se be doing the same worthless reflecting from inside with my feet up, watching Sex And The City, lenses off, face pack on.

Mail checking urge starts.
I need to spend less time on the net.

Imagine posting this.

Should look for transfer cable.

walks up and down corridor a few times.


Better than being stuck in a lift.

Breeze feels nice.

Welcome opposite of claustrophobia.

Probably good for the skin even.

Shouldn't wash my hair everyday.

mild shampoo though.


City's so polluted.

Bee could've been here sitting and fighting with me. She'd have known a good cleanser...
Silent giggle at memory of past joint fiasco in old house balcony... ma-pa came back late, and we stubbed that damn thing in the potted fern so bloody fast, and then like fools- flailing arms for a whole minute so the whiff would die out. Weird child even split a chewing gum in two and rubbed her fag holding fingers with it.. all eliminate-smell tactics. Deodorant would've been too suspicious. And so we waited for them to go to sleep so we could retrieve precious from outside. Which winter was it? Have we suddenly grown up? Bull. Tendencies are still spot on. Christmas in the loo of that Jaipur palace. Rizla milds and exhaust fans... he he. I should call her more often. Vent to her why she the bitch ain't ever online.

Kismet Konnection has a catchy song. "Dancey". Could've seen the movie together. Could still.

Beep. Message. Received. Replied. Both thumbs t-nined. Sent. Delivered. Paused. Exhaled. 11.40 p.m.

Oh. Put reminder. Absolutely must remember to give chowkidaar's 15 bucks back for bailing me out for auto-chillad this mornings. sweet man.

Windy drizzle dampens toes.

Jaldi jaldi. Paani ki bottle khatam, will need to pee in ten.

Bet S would've gone here only.

Second reminder: Call work dude early tmrw. 10.15 without alarm.

What a waste of time.
crunches versus nap on stairs?


butt is cold.

needy whimper

Stays still

For all of 30 seconds.

Rummages through bag, whips out compact, scrutinises skin in corridor light.
Threading needed.

I could buy that Mac pencil. Something brown. It's only a grand. And grows on trees.

kismet konnection ho jaye...
finger snap.

Shall I whistle? Riyaz? =) what talent, what skill. Or I could just keep coughing like an old man.

Looks out, stands up plays with phone camera, takes in the lights. clucks at trite bullshit.

What a waste of electricity. Cars look tiny, the i10 even more minuscule.

Headlights could be stars.

whistles slowly.

Can't spot roadkill from here, lenses or no lenses.

Serves me right for not carrying the keys.

Too many thoughts bordering on the macabre.
I need help.
What's wrong with you? oh be quiet.

How many people live in this building?

Is it seismic or siesmic? e/i confusion, like weird. Or wierd.

Screw this motionless lift. Don't tell me they're bloody stuck on the eighth floor.

Is this what orphans feel like? Oliver Twist and soup kitchens? Sniffle. Fuck. Callous. How unfair for those 2 young sons to be tapping gallant father's craniums. Jesus CHRIST. G's email address ain't so off the mark, it really is 'alleffedup'. Thank goodness nothing happened to spaz both his Kabul times. Unless one was a Lebanon time. Haan. Was. Unshaven and backpacky, smiling demented but returned safely. Gayatri mantra. I wouldn't have, no way -- just wouldn't have had the strength... He said they love Himesh there. And even Tulsi Virani. Save our souls yo.

Always nice when people mention your name in conversation while talking to you. Should be routine. Campaign nitty gritty. I like that. Friends forget. I think I try. I think I'm brilliant. I could jump to prove just how so.

Nearly tomorrow. Come home now familial morons, ple-e-e-e-e-ase... can't remember my last proper hug... LOLCAT thought. I can has up? smile.. oh yeah, that -- doesn't count though if I don't think I hugged back. My surprise. Mild twinge, even a tickle, and that old tempered regret.

Why does come over here sound better, more decent and discernibly less of an order barked than just come here. How is it not the same thing? Except it isn't. Language can be pretty exquisite. Gestures too. Nothing against silence either. Butt is still cold though.

Speed dial. Calling mama. haan, hi, how long? I'm sitting on the stairs outside. Yea, obviously. What else to do. Hm, ok see you. Red button. Status quo. Same drizzle-breeze and stagnant longing.


Mayonnaise Toss said...

The DLF bitch tag has scarred us forever eh? More me than you. :)

I actually enjoy getting locked out/in sometimes- that happens rarely anyway. I think being locked in a lift would make me nervous- more than the claustrophobia, I would imagine it suddenly snapping off and zipping down to the ground – big thud – crash – neck snaps – what a pitiful way to die. *Shudder*
No wonder I’ve been taking 7 floors up by stairs of late (also because its part of the weight loss resolution).

Also this reminds me to activate speed dial. And i still dont know how to use google reader - teach me?again?
What a lazy tech-retard SoBo Bitch I am. heh! :D

S said...

come over here :)

El said...

my oh my, a deliciously long and winding, and wonderfully erratic post.

nice picture there with the potted plants, got it from the right angle, lighting wise.

Perakath said...

What a lovely post, Nimpipi!

Got me confused with the seismic spelling for a minute. And I love the Kismat Konnektion song too... sounds like it should have Akshay Kumar dancing in the video..

Nimpipi said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Nimpipi said...

Mayo/ SoBo: Darling, this neck snapping thought of yours is a lil morbid, nahi? Yea, stick to the stairs; thighs will thank.
Google reader: You know, woman, I don't have the patience. I'm just going to give you my password, log in, read my stuff, and figure it out. We'll have a fair few overlapping interests as it is.

S: Maligning an entire alphabet now, are we; fickle fickle. And I is not comin nowhere. Told you once, told you a hundred times, down boy.

El: Thank you, sweet. Difficult to get the lighting angle wrong though when I had all the bloody time to focus and get it right.

Pera: Have to admit, I thought this would come off sounding a little like your posts -- minute, obsessive, detailed and Gupta stores oriented.:P, but thanks. Oddly redeemed.
Although, since when do YOU listen to lowly Bollywood tracks, my friend?! Akshay Kumar would've been brilliant, I agree. But never mind, Singh is King is making its way up the hum-ables plenty fast too.

Han said...

Whoa. Experimental. All this was written while you were waiting?

Nimpipi said...

Yes, please. There really wasn't anything else to do, and mind was in sleepy overdrive. as ye can seeee...

Perakath said...

See the ways our bloggies keep us sane!

I listen to the radio while I commute-- your station only, the one which used to have Sarthak and now has some guy called Abish in the morning and a Maneesh in the evening! Hence the Kismat Konnektion..

IR said...

i got locked out once too , complete without cellphone , money car keys or anything

whats more it was raining and i am on the ground floor ! complete with colony kids looking out of their windows and laughing , bummer

churningthewordmill said...

my neighbour used to hide a spare set of keys under the flower pot in her garden..her kids wud routinely lock themselves out.. but i dont think thats a smart idea anymore ..with the crime rates and everything..

btw, i love of e51 too.. cool phone...only wish it had a 3 megapixel camera!