Monday, September 14, 2009

What is the height of being well known?
A hijre in a local train recognizes me and S and almost ran towards us.
The last time he/she commented on how a great jodi we were and also complained about the tee shirt I was wearing.I gave him/her some money then.
This time,even though he/she shook hands with me,he/she wasnt so lucky.

Friday, September 11, 2009

I like Poker.I like 29 way way better.But I like poker too.I mean,it teaches you a lot about people and what they are.Like someone who doesnt bet with a loose hand,is probably a pussy.And the opposite,a dickhead.If that dickhead wins,he's called a winner.Like,of course,the millions of successful people.The non-winning dickheads land up in the streets and they die,like a little blip.Blips,by the way,are those who we are indifferent to.Together,these blips can create a sound but we quell them back to being little blips.Its a funny circle concept.Like the food chain and karma.
So I went to this engagement to Bangalore,last weekend.A close friend was getting married to a nice guy from Bombay,both mallus.Out of a two hundred,I was the only one travelling long distance.Its strange how strangers meet and congregate for a purpose totally random.
And yes,the train journey.I like trains.Not because I can actually look out of the window and see things that are not fluffy and blue and white.The hustle bustle in the station,drinking cha and talking to old men.
So,I played this weird card game with three old men on the train.The game was simple.Like solitaire,except that you have four people playing it.So while playing,this particular old man tells me this story about how his friend was shot down by the Chinese army when they were playing bridge and how he escaped after killing one of the chinaman.It was a nice story,even though I had my doubts about it.This is the kind of story you would likely cook up when you are stoned.But he was vegetarian and old.These three old men were all dressed in white dhotis ,with white hair and white moustaches.One had one of those old black glasses.Stuck up in the timeframe of the 30's.Never changing.Ever white.They were travellers rounding up the country,they said.I doubted that too.Fuckin old frail men faking up fake stories.When we neared the station,as they were packing their little less luggages,they jokingly asked me if I mistrusted everyone.Though I gave them a sleepy laugh,it was quite creepy.They were travelling to Pune and offered me a lift.But I passed.

Today's track---- Old man (NeilYoung,again)