Thursday, April 16, 2009

festoon our endeavours

Back. Set the alarm for six so we could walk up the road and cast our vote. Two lines on either side of the gate to the school marked out the No Parking zone. The press were out in force. We were the first voters to arrive, the first to cast our vote.

The index finger on my left hand is blue all along my nail. On our way out, two men with cameras took hesitant steps towards us then changed our minds. The rest-of-the-day began at five minutes past seven.


Bombay made me feel like I'd taken a swig from a bottle of Corex; I felt nerveless and numb, sure I would bump into things to find myself somewhere I didn't plan to be simply because I was too woozy to pay attention. Three hours on Saturday evening from Yari Road to Thane.


I hate people who have magnetic poetry. I've wanted one for a long time. In Thane, (not just) our endeavours, made in a slightly alcoholic haze.


km said...

Spooky. I was reading some James Joyce last night and came across a wickedly clever sentence with the word "festoon" in it and thought I'd use it somewhere myself :)

Phantasmagoria said...

KM: You poke a hole in the universe...

Smoke Screen said...

Congratulations on the voting! First timer? I'm a third timer!

Space Bar said...

km: please find that sentence. I want to read it.

ph: look who's back! :D how you?

smoke screen: second, ya. the first time i was eligible to vote i was in college. i ought to have demanded leave to return home and vote, no?