A Liar's Guide to the Dreams..

In the dead of the night, the dreams come in one by one. They cling to you with soft acceptance, and they know it all..

These are the dreams which leave a note of remembrance. They cling to our tongues like a bittersweet delight.

They feel familiar, though their flavour melts in the mouth... and taste distinctly unusual.


May 01, 2007

Twist... Twist....

so everything went sort of surreal this evening.

There I was walking down College Street in the afternoon, my mind clouded with worry over my impending doom (read MA finals without studies) and Andromeda's general physical condition, and I was on my way to meet Maddy for a simple tete-a-tete at coffee house, only to find out other members of my gerobaaj group

So over Chicken Kabiraaji and cold coffee and The Diary of Don Rigoberto and Tutu Bhutu and lots and lots of adda I was basically relaxed, and it stretched till Paramount where over cold glass of cream green mango sherbet we were discussing Satyajit Ray and Soumitro and Sibram Chakraborty and whatnot.... and I looked at the shining faces (sweaty and glistening) and realized that this was what I was going to miss.... this sense of relaxing shall just leave.

And suddenly I did not want to stay with them any longer. I felt like the serpent in Paradise and I wanted to get away. But then I was stuck in a little shop around College street corner, and I was back five years, when I used to pay 5 rupees for one book and come home loving the bargain and the book. Animal Farm.

The man looked at me with accusing, yet strangely gentle eyes, and said, "Why have you not come for so long? "

I gave some non-committal reply, feeling guilty. It was as if I have not looked after my best friend... and I was guilty of ignoring them.

And I looked at the books and I walked on.

And then the world went *topple*.

Can topple be a sound effect? It so is what happened to me this evening.

And I looked at the scattered books and my purse and my ankle turned in a strange angle, and I vaguely realized that it was not the way it should have been.

So I pulled it back to normal with a little twist and then crawled into a taxi that one of those pedestrians called up and then the world went black for around five minutes.

I woke to pain and pain and pain.

And then My Dear Dad gave me the dose of two painkillers and two large whisky.

And yes, I am shot.

I am twisted and back on line. I am BAAACKK!!

6 comments:

good morning, midnight said...

Porrikhar aage thyang khoda kore phelechcho? Ei na hole meye? *hugs you*

panu said...

Thik Thik. ajke toke bhalo kore hug korteo parini... :(

I love you basically....

rainbeau_peep said...

aare! it must be the curse of fatness! amio topple korechhilam college street ei ekbar!
oboshyo tarpore tipple korini.
orom chhaw foot heel porey shei north er baaje rasta diye komor dolaale aar ki hobe ma?
nesha na korey gorom shek dey.

panu said...

ore heel i porini. tai porechhi. shaala heel porle ami pore jai na... ki zyaatah!

Suki said...

ah, does that explain why panu hasnt been seen in the department? Poor Panu - :hugs:.
Hope you're okay by 18th, gal! Miss ya!

panu said...

i shall be there on 18th.

Btw, i have not been coming because exams are on.