or perhaps under the moon.
Work, talk on music and architecture, Rubaab, singing Paimona Bitte to myself, M over the phone between varghalaao-ing her #BIGFAIL and on repeat play for at least 15 loops of 3 copies each of the song
In my jammies, down, sad, tired and ready to end the day and drown my sorrows in my blog, I opened up this page to write a sad, soppy post in the midst of which I received some work of mine AND the friend I wanted to share it with asks me
I: Where are you?
Me: Home, where are you?
I: A is on his way, we're coming over, want to have disgusting McDonald's food? I'm going to India on Saturday.
Me: Jaldi aao, I need feedback on some work.
15 minutes later phone rings
I: baahar aao
Me: Aren't you guys coming in?
I: No we're going to liberty
Me: I'm in my jammies!
I: Jaldi aao!
Lo and behold, at the ripe age of 30 (and I write this with the need to laugh at calling 30 a ripe age some day when I'm 60) I venture out of the house first-time-ever in my pajamas.
Go to Liberty books, ponder all over the store, turn down a keen offer to get the book club membership (yes, checkered pajama bottoms and still they wanted to be associated to me) and go eat at a friend's eatery. Best-seafood-joint-ever.
How the day unfolds, or even just the evening
How it all falls into place when you feel you're beholding nothing but frenzy
Thank you Allah mian.
Now help me sleep.
*happy sigh*
Work, talk on music and architecture, Rubaab, singing Paimona Bitte to myself, M over the phone between varghalaao-ing her #BIGFAIL and on repeat play for at least 15 loops of 3 copies each of the song
In my jammies, down, sad, tired and ready to end the day and drown my sorrows in my blog, I opened up this page to write a sad, soppy post in the midst of which I received some work of mine AND the friend I wanted to share it with asks me
I: Where are you?
Me: Home, where are you?
I: A is on his way, we're coming over, want to have disgusting McDonald's food? I'm going to India on Saturday.
Me: Jaldi aao, I need feedback on some work.
15 minutes later phone rings
I: baahar aao
Me: Aren't you guys coming in?
I: No we're going to liberty
Me: I'm in my jammies!
I: Jaldi aao!
Lo and behold, at the ripe age of 30 (and I write this with the need to laugh at calling 30 a ripe age some day when I'm 60) I venture out of the house first-time-ever in my pajamas.
Go to Liberty books, ponder all over the store, turn down a keen offer to get the book club membership (yes, checkered pajama bottoms and still they wanted to be associated to me) and go eat at a friend's eatery. Best-seafood-joint-ever.
How the day unfolds, or even just the evening
How it all falls into place when you feel you're beholding nothing but frenzy
Thank you Allah mian.
Now help me sleep.
*happy sigh*
No comments:
Post a Comment
Every snowflake yearns to touch the ground, to melt, to change it's state, be something it isn't yet, whether it's water, ice or a snowball. Change is but a constant. Keep Commenting...let me know what you think.
Cheers