Thursday, December 2, 2010

The Week That Wasn't

Bangalore

You pack. You ride. You check in. Wait. Sit. Tuck the seat belt in. And then you take it out. The air hostess. The girl in the aisle seat. The fat uncle in the middle seat. Sandwich. Water. Once again the seat belt goes in. But only to be taken out. You check out and you are done with step one.

Delhi

You meet. You hug. You smoke. The good ol’ days. The bad new days. You crib. The pain. The gossip. Smiles. Laughter. Loud laughter. And the night passes by before you can even realize.

You sleep. You wake up. There are missed calls. There are plans. Lunch. Coffee. More coffee. The pub. You drink. You start laughing. You drink more. You get senti. You drink more. And more. You black out. You puke. You puke more until you crash. You wake up next morning with a few things missing. A bag, a wallet and perhaps some people. Brief time periods.

You meet. You hug. Lunch. Coffee. More coffee. Dinner. You smoke. You hallucinate. You laugh. Pink Floyd. Tool. And the next 10 hours are a little hazy.

You pack your bags and move for your next destination. Edward Norton asked in Fight Club : If you wake up at a different place, at a different time, is it possible you wake up as a different person. Actually yes, if you wake up among different people called Family.

Kota

You talk. You laugh. You eat. You pray. You make small talk. Future plans. Marriage. Job. Food. Salary. Some more blah blah. You pack your bag and it’s time for the great Indian wedding.

Itarsi

People to lift luggage – Check

Taxi to pick you up – Check

Hotel to crash – Check

Good great group of friends – Check

Tonnes of food – Check

Music – Uncheck

Chicks – Uncheck

Dance – Uncheck

Booze – Check

And amid them, tones of jokes about Anshul.

You pack your bag. Take a train. Fight for the reserved birth. Give it up later for a hot chick. Try to make small talk. No phone number. No Facebook account. You de-board, tired of sitting after giving up your birth

Mumbai

Yes, it's crowded. Yes, there are slums. And ye,s everybody wants to be a millionaire. It's once again meeting, hugging, eating, shopping, drinking, puking, smoking, hallucinating, losing a bag, tripping, dancing and more blah.

All in all. Ten bloody fucking days of fun incorporated.

And Yes. Anshul is still an asshole.

12 comments:

Nipun said...

What an awesome week...:)
Full aish and a vry new way to jot down things u did.

I dont know why u keep calling ur friend an asshole always...:P
Whats the story behind?

Your Delhi Belly Guest post will be soon Published.

Cheers

Nuts

Rhythmn said...

i think u forgot cp, smoke and beer, which i had...
:)
bt good week nonetheless...

Aniket said...

Liked the post :)

Tangerine said...

What a wonderfully lovely week! so full of life!

saurabh said...

Awesome and a different style of writing.. :)

Ashwin said...

So that explains the slow updates in your blog!

Crisp post! No beating around the bush! :)

Pratik Gupta said...

@Nipun: Oh you will know when you will be here...

Pratik Gupta said...

@rhythm: I havent. Its all in my heart and brain and in blood :P

Pratik Gupta said...

@Aniket: Glad. :)

Pratik Gupta said...

@Tangy: Oh yeah. and trust me this is less than the plot summary :)

Pratik Gupta said...

@Jadoo: My pleasure, Your highness! :)

Pratik Gupta said...

@Ashwin: Yes the trip and some exams. But Now I am back. :)