So, so you think you can tell ..
It is drizzling. Pouring, now. One of those pink-floyd-wish-you-were-here kinds of rain - where the birds fly out just above your head on a cool, breathing, not-so-wet mumbai afternoon and waves emrace the outer edges of the Marine Drive. And you spread out your arms, look up and see uniformly white (not grey) clouds everywhere you lay your eyes and fill your grey t-shirt with numerous visible, wet dots.
And then you may break into a run, with the sounds of waves indulging with the favorite song playing on your headphone to create the world's best fusion music, chasing Bus number 138. The bus is stalled at the signal and you run towards it and take the gamble that the lights will be red till you get to the bus, rather than going to the bus stand and waiting for another 138 to come. More that midway through your run, the traffic lights turn green. You accelerate, but so does the bus.
You're almost there, and the speed of the bus and your own run co-incide. You reach out to hold out the bar railing and look to climb onto that moving bus. It is now or never, any further delay and the bus will outspeed you. It is the point of no return. And in that one golden moment, you make that leap and get onto the wonderful red, best, double decker 138.
Walking up the stairway, listening to the David Gilmour singing about two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, you are filled with a sense of achievement from a successful, trivial pursuit.
And after what seems like ages, you smile.
And then you may break into a run, with the sounds of waves indulging with the favorite song playing on your headphone to create the world's best fusion music, chasing Bus number 138. The bus is stalled at the signal and you run towards it and take the gamble that the lights will be red till you get to the bus, rather than going to the bus stand and waiting for another 138 to come. More that midway through your run, the traffic lights turn green. You accelerate, but so does the bus.
You're almost there, and the speed of the bus and your own run co-incide. You reach out to hold out the bar railing and look to climb onto that moving bus. It is now or never, any further delay and the bus will outspeed you. It is the point of no return. And in that one golden moment, you make that leap and get onto the wonderful red, best, double decker 138.
Walking up the stairway, listening to the David Gilmour singing about two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, you are filled with a sense of achievement from a successful, trivial pursuit.
And after what seems like ages, you smile.
posted by bhuvan at 11:17 AM
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