Merci Beaucoup

Sitting in the darkness (no electricity for 2 hours due to some fault) and staring at the ceiling, I felt I need to thank these people/factors in my life:

1. GOD: Thank you god for making me a female. That means I have to go through chums every month and not to forget the pain with it. I think it would really be making people around me happy to see me (and suffer with me) the hundred mood swings in a day during PMS and be a human personification of a cactus in general. If this pain is what they say is magnified during child birth, I think I have a newfound respect and awe for mothers… past, future and present.

2. Mr. X: What would I do without you? Actually I am finding that out since you are in one of your 2400 moods in a 24 hour day (for the uninitiated in mathematics that makes around 100 moods in a hour, more than a mood in a minute, and I am NOT talking about Moods- the condom) when you want to hibernate. Since your chief interests lies somewhere between sleeping with me and sleeping with me, it makes you so irresistible na?

3. Mr. Y: I love you. I really do. We have been through the thick and thin. It is because of you and your love that I have grown to like psychotic, ego maniacs. It really makes me happy to be your unintentional doormat and really makes me guilty that I blow off your money whenever I can lay my hands on it (I know I don’t get too many opportunities for it as I would like to have… you are being careful). If living with you is such a pleasurable experience, I can’t wait to get married! (Don’t worry darling, I will never leave you for X, ever.)

4. Parents: I am really thankful to you. Not sarcastic, really am. I know I really made you both go through hell (but you have to agree it was vice versa), but no one puts up with me like you both do. And I will never say this on your face dad, but I really love you, even when you are being a totally stuck up 60 year old.

5. PAN Dept: Lastly, my utmost gratitude goes to the PAN Dept. Since loosing my PAN Card last year (that also reminds me to thank the thief who stole my wallet at Malad station – my visit for the first and last time in Malad) I have lost count of the endless mails I have written to them and forms I have filled and sent for a duplicate one, it has resulted in vast improvement of my writing skills. I also want to thank them for being so prompt to let me know after 8 months of application that they have received my application but in addition to my proof of identity (a copy of my passport) they have not received my proof of address (copy of a passport- what a coincidence!). So I may have to reapply again. Thank You!

Taxi

It was raining heavily. I could see the driver wiping the foggy windscreen of the taxi frequently… his wiper was not working. Inspite of the dirt and filth lying around in Mumbai, rains always manage to give the city a clean look. It looks as if the city is taking a bath after a long and dusty playtime outside. Contrary to the soothing feeling I get by the sound of falling raindrops, today it hardly made a difference. My heart felt as if it was going to jump out of my chest.

He called me yesterday night, asking me to receive him at the station. It was the first time he had gone ahead of his deliberate casual attitude towards everything… towards me. I would be lying if I say it didn’t please me. I looked at the rearview mirror and did a mental check – Kajal, check. Lipstick, check. A little of cleavage was showing… I didn’t care. I was wearing blue and smiled when I realized it was his favourite colour (God! I was acting like a funny teenager). I was sure he wouldn’t even notice it. A loud screech of brakes and sound of the taxi splashing through a huge puddle jerked me out of my reverie.

He had met me a year before… can’t even remember what attracted me towards him in the first place. Doesn’t have the looks or the disposition. He says he doesn’t love me, neither do I. But I did miss him a lot when he was away. Should I tell this to him or not? The rain had stopped and I jumped over the pools of muddy water that had formed everywhere to reach the platform and do what I could … wait.

I spotted him struggling with his 2 bags and walking towards me; we searched for a taxi and just bundled up…luggage and all in the back seat towards his home. Sometimes I think if he never lived alone, we would definitely not be meeting like this. Not a time for self reflection I thought and turned towards him. The first thing I noticed was he had mosquito bites on his neck

“Well, I thought there were fewer mosquitoes at home than here in Mumbai?”
“Well, since you were not there to leave any marks, the mosquitoes did”
“Very funny!”
“Do you want me stay?” I asked
“Upto you. It is always your choice”
“Ok”

I decided not to. Stay that is. Even when he kissed me and asked me to stay.
“Station chalo”, I told the cabbie to catch the nearest local to my home.

If it was just a passing thing, why did it hurt so much to hear those words? Was I going back on my own resolve? That I wouldn’t take this seriously, I wouldn’t take him seriously. Where does that leave me? Was I being true to myself? Is the emotion I see flickering in his eyes for it vanishes just as quickly – love? If not then what? Why are we still together? It was not suppose to last for more than a month and yet here we are, not able to break away. I am going insane? Too many questions and no answers I thought as I left one train of thought to catch a real one.