Saturday, August 25, 2007

memories longer than the road that stretches out of here

It’s been six years since the day we met in the Woods and hit it off almost immediately, although we didn’t know each other’s names until almost a year later. It’s been five years since we were trying to keep each other from the brink of insanity during college festival time, since we started traveling back and forth together, since we went to Three Flights Up with Ash and Sneharika and resolutely did not drink, and did not dance, or at least not very well. It’s been four years since we discovered what an absolute bitch of a world it is. Three years since we gave up on ever finding enough time to spend with each other. Two years since we’ve lived in the same city. A year since you came to visit.

I’m not going to recount the good times and the times of crushing ennui and despair, not going to talk about how you introduced me to Harry Potter and Blackadder and Bollywood B-flicks, except to say that we have had them, good times, bad times, ennui, despair, disdain, desperation, and I did read all four Harry Potter books over a single weekend in your house, and there was that night with the kootchie-kootchie Tarzan film that we persisted in watching in full, and there were the odd Parties of Doom at which we both ended up being thoroughly disgruntled, and Colaba and Andheri and Khar station and the malls of Hyderabad, and a lot of places in between. I could go on.

There’s never been enough time, in the last two years, but who’s to say there never will be?

You and me, Sunday driving, not arriving, on our way back home.

Bye, Bob. Now take New York by storm.

All my love.