Saturday, June 24, 2017

It's 2:08 am, I'm sentimentally sloshed, buckled and tied to 6E177 or whatever my flight is. I booked my tickets a couple of hours ago now and the only thing that's hitting is what the actual fuck am I doing with my life. 

Earlier today, I was headed to Udaipur to hang with one of my oldest friends. Last I remembered my dentist asked me to book him a haveli there and I resisted the urge to tell him,"aao kabhi haveli par." Yep that's how sad it's been last couple of days. 

Where was I? Udaipur, yes. My boss' secretary and Mia Khalifa booked me a train ticket cause I'm nincompoop, also low on motivation. After that, they promptly informed that it's waiting 21 and that I'd make it. 

Cut to earlier today. My father hears this terrible plan and tells me this ain't happening. "I used to take a lot of trains so yeah, 21 wait list isn't opening for you."

Here's what. 

I was 40 something on wait list for my masters degree in India, and the coveted course has no leeway. In the sense, nobody who makes it in withdraws. 

I made it in. 

When I refreshed the IRCTC page earlier today it showed me 6. At that point, my date, this man who's been dodging me for six months had asked me thrice, would I see him at 7? 

"Of course. No two ways about it.", I'd told Mia Khalifa. 

"Let me give you a reality check, love. You don't want to go to Udaipur. You don't want to meet the man. You want to do nothing except for hang out on your bed and that's that."

Shit, this bitch knows me. I really did want to do nothing. 

"Look, I totally want to go out and yeah, I will meet the man in process. Then I will take the morning flight and fuck off."

"You're only saying it. You want to do nothing."

Nothing did sound great. 

I checked my phone. Kuks had messaged me saying I could take her with me to eat wherever and hang at all times. She would even accompany me to all my favourite places. Shit.

Could I live with the insult of doing nothing over the weekend and show my face on Tuesday? I don't know. Could I ditch this date? No. The guy was bound to kill me. He's anal about Friday night and I'd already ditched him once. 

Do I really care about a stranger that much? 


Mia Khalifa knows me better than I know myself. That's her version but I shall go with it. She does. 

So, at 6 pm I exited Work and made way to an ATM. Date was on. As was Pune. 

"You're actually going? Unbelievable."

"Shut up. Why don't you meet for drinks at 9:30? I've a feeling it would end in a disaster."

Pot makes me question my life. This was a date and a spontaneous trip. I'd also cancelled my train ticket at this point. Man, I must like Pune. 

"Look man. Try to have fun. That's all. I will cook some mutton and go to bed." 

"Can't you come meet me?"

"No, I need to work on my book."

Bitch. Wanted to download tinder and now she wants to work on her book. 

Cut to a few hours later, I'm face palming, just to support my fat face. I've a strong feeling my date thinks I'm clinically depressed but I don't give any reason to believe it. 
No, nothing that the man did. Just one too many drinks. 

He tells me how he wants to ace rapping Lose Yourself at next Karaoke night. I tell him I want to move out of publishing but i don't know any other thing. We discuss the worst film I ever worked on. I also tell him my standard first date things-I throw up all the time, I'm a brat, I have no clue where my life is headed. He tells me about eating Bat fried in batter and judges me for eating biryani with a spoon. 

It's 2:43 am and the captain has asked us all to fasten our seat belts. I've been upgraded to the luxury seat and it's a delight to watch from when you're on the top. 

On top of the fucking world. How's 25000 feet above the ground for a measure?

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