Aapka bhavishya kya kehta hai? (what's does your future say?)

Some days are happy days … as in everything atleast starts right. You have sex in the morning when you are half sleeping and your other half- bf/husband/whoever is really turned on (wonder what makes them so ‘all for it’ in the morning – bad breaths or the pony tail turned horse’s tail?) and does all the moves on you while you just lie back and enjoy the experience. On reaching office you discover that the boss is on leave and client is in a day long workshop so you can read all those gossip columns and daily astrological predictions- ‘Aapka bhavishya kya kehta hai’ (“Just for fun” you say incase someone catches you reading whether green is luckier than blue for you today).

My day started the opposite way … fought with Y the night before on his super bloated ego (even that’s an understatement I think!), had to deliberately face the wall on the opposite side and sleep (now every girl has her pride and rather kill than thinking of snuggling in the same blanket). Woke up and realized that forgot to remove the kajal, mascara that I had put for the party last night and now had raccoon eyes. I was looking so bad that even if I would have stood, naked, infront of a man eating tiger, he would have refused to eat me up. Was just getting into the train, when cell phone pinged- message from X... was asking me how the War of Roses is going on. Ok, I agree I shouldn’t have dished out the details of my less than perfect ‘other’ relationship to him, but I did… and now I think he enjoys the perverse pleasure of knowing that my road to pleasure has rocks, no boulders on the way. I replied something inconsequential like we are just fine and have not killed each other yet. He, ofcourse, insisted on details. I do have to admit that I like this thing of having platonic relationship with X. We do everything – go out, take nice long evening walks, spend hours discussing everything under the sun, hell, I even dress up for these dates- but we don’t touch. That’s an unsaid No No as we both are trying desperately to squash the lust worm. Sometimes I even think why doesn’t he just go ahead, get a girlfriend and get laid. Maybe that will end it all, I will be too pissed to go out with him (I was always selfish) and that will break the circle.

I reached office earlier than usual and found no one had come in yet. There is something refreshingly exciting in entering an empty office and being the first one to sign the register. I ignored the Economic Times and settled down with a page 3 section. Invariably moved on to checking my horoscope. Not that I believe in them… just for fun you see. Maybe it comes subconsciously from the fact that Ma used to read our fortunes for fun every Sunday from The Sunday Indian Express in the afternoons. (Even now I have this sneaky doubt that she buys Bejan Daruwala’s annual forecasts. Though she never follows them, maybe it is just harmless fun). It did lead to, me, becoming addicted to reading The Sunday Indian Express and even now, when I am in an industry where I read on an average ten papers a day, it is my favourite paper on a Sunday.

Even the horoscope was not with me that day and predicted something that I always knew… my life sucked and will suck if I ‘don’t brace the changes and karmic obligations for a fuller life’. Like what? Run away and settle in Kenya? That’s just geography. Just then super bitch client called and blasted me for using ‘there’ instead of ‘their’ in one of her releases. Inside, I was dying of mortification, how could I do that? This is the mistake even my 5 years old nephew won’t do. I replied, in my best professionally voice I could manage, that it was a silly mistake and will rectify it. Apparently super bitch client was also PMSing and went ahead to say that she is unhappy with the release (without mentioning why) and I have to redo it. Sigh! I wish I could kill her with the phone cord at that moment. I am sure she won’t die even then, she is made of sterner stuff than that and even if she does, she will haunt me the rest of her life.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, called D and told her I am coming over. The day ended with me sitting on fluffy cushions of D’s sofa while she looked dreamily at the ceiling smoking a cigarette and exhaling smoke rings that fascinates me no end. We were already down half bottle of vodka (although I usually add lots of fruit juice and lime to ease my guilty conscious that I am halfway to a drunken euphoria). D shifted her gaze and looked at me in the eyes and said,” So, what is eating you up?” I didn’t have any answers. I guess I am in a limbo. I think all that have is more than enough, and it is in a way, but then what else am I waiting for? Why sometimes the niggling emptiness inside when I lie on my bed night after night? “What difference does it make? I want to enjoy one day at a time”, I said after sometime. She replied with her usual “Hmmm…”

Two hours later (or so I think it was… next morning details were fuzzy) we were rolling on the floor, clutching our stomachs, helpless with laughter watching the silent movie and totally drunk. I never felt better and I was laughing so much that my eyes watered and stomach ached. I thought nothing could burst my bubble and then the cell phone pinged again. It was X (or was it Y? can’t remember, but gauging the reaction from both of them next morning, definitely X. He sounded as cold as Antarctica) asking whether the war was still going on? I typed fuck you in caps and hit send. Later realized it went as duck you. Thought will call him and clarify but then thought its ok… after all duck is also 75% obscene.