Its surely been a memorable weekend. March looks promising. After months of monotony, during which I grew more and more impatient with my routine life...finally there was a welcome break from the monotony. Life had become predictable...which irked me. Other than few minor aberrations...it was like a repetitive cycle...each day the same.
Anyways, last week was different. Once again I feel alive.
It all started with Utopia on Friday, where Thermal and A Quarter whipped up some mean music. Good music,coupled with good company of old friends and free flowing booze...the night had to be good. At the fag end of the concert, at 2.20 in the morning, me and my friend headed off to Faridabad on his RD 350. Man, what a bike! It will remain one of the best rides I have had in a long time.
The next evening I was back in Delhi with some friends. After a couple of hours, all of us were jamming, aided by the whiskey. We must have made quite a ruckus that night...but thanks to the "Mysterious long haired guy" reputation I enjoy from my neighbours...nobody said anything. Sometimes being a long haired guy really helps.
Well not always though, like the time I was smoking outside my house...and a policeman on his bike stopped to ask me what I was doing there. After our introductions were through, he apologised and said it wasn't actually his mistake...it was mine. I had long hair.
Or the countless times when I have got the undivided attention of Delhi's stud boys. They would zoom past on their bikes...and then they turn.......and the priceless expression on their faces. My close friend, also a long haired guy, has had similar experiences, if not more hilarious ones.
To add to the unexpected turn of events of this weekend, I met an old schoolmate after 13 years. I had never expected to bump into him after 13 years like this in the middle of the road. Meeting him made me quite nostalgic.
Talking about those days,old school, old friends...and of course our old crushes. Damn, I wonder where she is now...my first crush.
Remembered the first time I had seen her...the only short haired girl in the class. I have always had this thing for short haired girls. Needless to say, I fell for her... hook, line and sinker. The first love letter...and the scolding from the teachers which followed. I was 8 then.
Somewhere during my city changing, school changing life I lost track. Wonder if we would recognise each other if we bumped into each other again.
Anyways, its been a fantastic weekend.