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.
4 comments:
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 :)
KM: You poke a hole in the universe...
Congratulations on the voting! First timer? I'm a third timer!
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?
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