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.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

roswitha returns, predictably talks about sport again

Part I: Intelligent Cricket Feature Writing

Now what's all this nonsense about Dravid being a gormless incompetent for deciding to play it safe and go for a draw instead of a slightly more precarious win? What part of 'INDIA NOW HAS A SERIES WIN' is distasteful?

Romantics. Bah.

-- this is not to say that Dravid isn't a gormless incompetent. He is. But also? Series-winning captain.

Part II: In Conversation with Evil Manchild Kausha

Kausha: Hey, so I got to watch the Arsenal-Inter friendly at the Emirates in the flesh, because I am seriously way too cool to live.
Ros: Oh, yeah. This the one that Arsenal won, right?
Kausha: Right.
Ros The Arsenal Supporter: Against the Inter that then went on to thrash the hell out of Manchester United?
Kausha The United Supporter: Hi, wait a minute.
Ros: HAHAHAHAHAHA.
Kausha: In case you didn't notice, a certain Zlatan Ibrahimovic was fielded in the United game.
Ros The Fan Of A Team Destroyed Near Single-Handedly By Zlatan Twice In The Last Season: Hmmnmm.
Kausha: Man. But that David Suazo, Inter's new striker? Good.
Ros: Don't TALK to me about David Suazo.
Kausha: Yes, I heard there was some tussle over which Milan club would sign him.
Ros: -- Milan had him. They signed him. And then he got unsigned and went over to Inter.
Kaushaa: Uhuh.
Ros: Bastards.
Kausha: Yeah.
Ros: ... I came so close to saying 'we' instead of 'Milan' in that sentence.
Kausha: I WAS WAITING FOR THAT.
Ros: I'm assimilated into the football hive mind.
Kausha: HAHAHAHAHAHA.


Definitely NOT my favourite person ever.