Monday, September 29, 2008

Ticking Away

1:00 Grant Road chalo, station ke peeche. Been raining since the morning and it just doesn’t stop. Bloody Jugnu Sheth, perched up with Leena in Hotel Diamond and wanting to see the papers there. Always mixing business with pleasure. At least I didn’t work when I went to Kennedy Bridge in the evening.

Traffic is slow. Raining and so many cars. Its 100% stock market only, Bloody even Harish bhai bought a Zen the other day. Saaala used to go in Chetak, now bloody AC Zen with Himesh Bhai for company. I don’t invest you see, I take the 8:17 in the morning but first class. Never late. Office by 8:43. Chai at 9:05 and I am set for the day. Safari gets a little crumpled, but Dhanno dhobi is below Eros and I am good to go. Wife bought me a white safari the other day, got blackened. They don’t clean the trains. Its not their fault. Sweeper says he gets 100 rupees a day. I wouldn’t clean my own ass for 100 rupees in a day

Bloody traffic. Money’s running easy and cars are running easier. Today Jugnu called me and I have to break the 15 rupees rule.

1:20 Abey kaat idhar se. Traffic is bad these days. B’bay was great. Grant Road also, even Kennedy was high-class.. Lisa would be there. Good days, milk and bang bang and milk again and then off to Damyanti cinema. I asked for milk and I was told inflation. Bloody fancy word for a pimp. Inflation, bull shit, its all the stock market

1:30 I have only twenty. Where the fuck is the ten, I thought I had. Sharma, bloody bastard, took the money in the morning. Sharma is the kind of fellow you don’t want to meet, ever. Institutional Accounts, Sharma. He fills a row a day. Only a row and not more, somedays when its Diwali or something he does two. Those day’s he’s tired and says he needs to cab it back home. Sharmaji. Fat poncho Sharma.

1:40 Fucking twenty bucks and its only Metro yet. Don’t even have an umbrella. Can’t carry an umbrella you see. Doesn’t suit me, cramps my style. Mornings you have to be careful. Xaviers College is close by and all these girls, they travel too. So many men with dabba and umbrella, bloody ghats, signing up their virility for their wives forever. I refrain. Take a breath, get wet a bit, but stroll with free arms. There’s nothing like watching a man strolling with arms swinging. Sign of perfect masculinity

1:50 I have only twenty bucks. So you’ll anyways be going down this one way drop me.

1:60 Bloody bastard. I’ve seen these types. Another day, another man, another mistake. Must have spent his money on some gambling. Stock market. These tall offices, sullen from outside and fittingly. Men go in and cash registers come out. Some ring, others ring hollow. Picked up this kid once, bright kid, two days later, he didn’t have cash for a bloody cab ride. Same as this fellow

2:00 Thirty fucking bucks, losing ten on this guy. Lost twenty already on that girl near Wilson. Thirty bucks in a day, 1000 in a month, my house rent. Its raining, hard to tell these people to get off in the cab. Potholed and puddled, Mumbai, dirty as if each person just vomited on the road and walked on. Everyone vomits and the streets take it all in and a little is left on top. Then it rains and the city regurgitates. All the vomit comes out. It stinks. Thirty bucks a day, rains are just poor business

2:10 Good cabbie, might have tipped him, luckily I am out of cash. Now for Jugnu and Leena. Maybe I’ll call that Tehelka reporter and do one tamasha. Breaking news tamasha.

Another day another thought,
Make some money but mostly lost
The city burns by day and night
Purse strings forever pulled tight

My money runs out evermore now
Rich yesterday but today poor as a cow
Many more to bid with me
And age leaves me fleetingly

Another day another thought
Make some money but mostly lost

By,
Anonymous

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Me and You

If I were you and you were me
And we met on some sunny street
Would you look at me and say
Lets have some coffee to brighten my day

Or would you be scared stiff and blue
Scared I might say a word or two
But that’s not something I would do
For I am not me but playing you

Tell me how would we be as us
With me as you and you as me
Who would make the greater fuss
You or me or none of us

By,
Anonymous