Saturday, October 28, 2006

Still under siege

The chaos on the terrace has still not exited and will be around till Sunday!!
For fuck's sake!
Sitting home yesterday and the whole brood came up to have dinner outside.
Took advantage of the lack of music outside to freak them out a bit.
Didn't have any porn at home, so put in Kill Bill 2, the part where she's just about to be buried alive, turned the volume on full and kept replaying it till faint grumbles of "aaj ke bacche" meant the party had begun moving downward.

Friday, October 27, 2006

Back for a bit

Another Friday night's here. Finally
Work's been an absolute bitch the past few weeks. We kicked out November last week because marketing had a bee up their arse about getting it out before Diwali and Eid.

Tripped my mind out on Diwali for a bit before Bongshell & Co arrived and we headed down and back to the BritChick's. The Pausers were getting together there instead of at The Warrior's owing to earlier trashing of latter's fuckpad.
DeGun, pretty much BritChick's househusband, was already there whipping up pasta and The Pausers were busy getting plastered in the kitchen.
Satriani's chika Pen's parents were there too. Satriani plays lead for The Band and her folks are sort of uncomfortable with pot smoke. Why this is important comes later.
After staggering around there for a bit, decided to go check out KBeer's place where the big-ass cards session was happening.
Staggered up, staggered in, stumbled down. Looked around.. and all the lights are on, they're ALL completely sober, having just begun their scene.
Wasn't about to sit around and wait for them to relate to me, so did all that staggering in reverse back to the BritChick's.
Not a good idea to go walking around hazy drunk and mind-popping stoned when you have sudden explosions go off two feet from you with no warning
Back at The BritChick's everything was pretty much as is.
Except for the usual foot-in-mouth disease that strikes DeGun without warning.
We're smoking a spliff in the kitchen. We being Bongshell, The Pausers and self and Pen's mum walks in with BritChick to replenish munchies on the table.
So obviously, we exit to the lounge without.
A completely alcoholised DeGun walks in gingerly, walks to the kitchen door, looks in, looks out at all of us in the next room and says, "Oh, so all the guys gotta get out the kitchen when the bitches be doing all the work?!", turns around and strolls in to pick up kebabs from Pen's mum's platter.
A little later, Pen is over heard explaining to her mum that "bitch" in India means "idiot". Apparently foot-in-mouth disease struck Howler (who sings for The Pausers)earlier in the week when he told Pen she was a bitch approximately 658 times at lunch with her parents.

Speaking of bitches, went by the folks' Sunday night where all the damn dogs were in heat. The folks can't handle an extended canine population, so all them mutts are separated. The volatile ones at any rate.
Brilliant weather out at folks' place Sunday night.
When you could it notice it below the racket of all of them howling, door-scratching, barking, yelping and fighting not to mention my dad yelling at them to "SHADAFAKUP".

Came back to town, came back up, and my space has been invaded!

The first-floor people's daughter getting married, so hooked up our terrace without even bothering to tell us. Ok fine, the terrace isn't in our lease, but we do live on it more than the rest of the occupants of the building.
At least they aren't getting their DJ up, but they do have a frigging tent, tables, cooks sleeping over, muck, stoves, more muck, excess vegetables.
Fuck, I hate this! Hope they're gone by tonight.

There's some psy gig tonight at Nasha with some supposedly hot Belgian chicky DJ, Skinny Alley's playing at The Mezz and Jalabee Cartel are mixing at Laidbackwaters.
Not a bad Friday night tonight

Tuesday, October 24, 2006


Diwali night



ChooChoo charges the gate while Pickles does a self-testy check

Not-so-wild Wild Child

Saturday, October 14, 2006


Do you really need a bank like that?


Office stressbusters

Friday, October 13, 2006

Tripping in the city

Coloured out

Losing money

Family portrait

Hitting the deck

The ice candy man

Tribal tattoos


My head is a construction site

Hangovers are reality checks we can do without ... just like Delhi cops.
Was Wild Child's birthday yesterday and her best friend, The WeatherGirl, threw a surprise shindig at former's place. Got her a battery-operated crawling hand that her folks loved more than she parted with precious 8inch blueberry blunt as well.

Went by ShutterBug's some time ago and discovered left over mushrooms. The magic kind. Generous helpings of latter on salami toast and self and SB left for MiniBongLand.
This the first time self has experimented with mushies.
Word of advice: Try not to do anything too hectic after. Fries your brain in ways you can't imagine. Like making too many plans with too many people all over the damn city and sitting without the fan on.

Best drug till date has been ecstacy. Been aquainted a few times but the best ride's been in Goa at the end of the millennium (where else).
Baba, The Dog, Bounce, Stubble, Psyche and self, after much vacillation decided to spend New Year's at Disco Valley, which for those who haven't been is a cliff on the beach with the DJs sitting in the cliff on a ledge with the party below stretching to the sea.
Several tambourine men and their whispered spiels accosted us the minute we climbed off our hired, and very dented, scooters. Some pressing, smelling and tip-of-tongue tasting later we descend from the parking lot, pockets bulging with party ammo.
Psyche and Stubble, both friends of The Dog from the Pune days disappeared into the crowd so we picked our way to a vacant spot near a convenient chai/coffee/biscuit/ stall and pulled out the good shit.
Following Baba's advice, tongued the crystals and settled down to wait.
When it hit, half an hour later, it hit nice..
Began like a small warm liquid explosion in my stomach with the warm liquid sticking to the insides of my gut before moving up, threatening to spew itself out.
"Hold your nose, and put your head back" came wavering advice from a passing freak.
Did this and the warm liquid began slowly, like tar, moving back down to my stomach, from where it went, considerably faster along my arms and legs to the tips of my fingers and toes.
This feeling of incredible lightness began tingling through, so thought jumping would be a good idea, what with the mind-bending dark psychedelic being pumped out.
That one hop was more like a adrenalin-charged, vertigo-inducing doiiiiiing!!! Could feel the wind rushing through my hair, along my arms as I soared above the palm trees, way above the crowd, almost face-to-face with dreadlocked DJ hunkered over the dimly lit console before the plunge in my stomach caught and feet headed back to sand. Landed lightly and took off again, this time turning around to check out the ships in the distance, twinkling in the blackness.
Incredible feeling...flight.. kept bouncing all night till exhaustion struck and passed out.
Woke next day somewhere around mid-morning and feet had orange blisters from jumping for 6-odd hours straight barefoot in the sand.
Couldn't walk for the rest for the vacation but what the hell.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Colour tripping

Sunday morning, woke bright and late to see landlady puttering around on the terrace with platoon of painters in tow.
Best part of the free whitewash is that landlady allowed us to choose colours. So the living room is now green, the bedroom is what Sister calls 'earthy mud' but is really shit and the bathroom's blue. Can't wait to get the brushmen out so we can put the place back together.

Was sitting on the terrace yesterday evening, watching them swab the doors and saw this bright orange flaming streak in the sky. No wasn't smoking just then, and definitely wasn't tripping. Sister saw it too, along with her office mates down in Gurgaon.
Wasn't fast enough to be a meteor. Was just this long trail of flame that eventually disappeared somewhere over the horizon beyond the CGO complex.

Ahh well..

Monday, October 09, 2006

Autumn Sunday

Cool zephyrs meander gently through sun-dappled treetops
With a rush that brings alive the ocean on the rocks
Carrying the distant frantic melodrama of televised Bollywood violin
And also the nostalgic scents of varied luncheons steaming

The recycle-men bicycle aimlessly without
Venting their hauntingly melodic spiel out loud
As faraway kites freewheel over distant garbage
And neighbourhood brats come face to face with road rage

The hops have begun to settle now
Mary and self are watching the show
As the abode is readied for the New Year
And preparations move into high gear

Nights of luminance are around the corner
Bacchanalian fiestas of food, drink and gambling
As the nights get longer and the conversations crazier
There’ll be this plunge before the partying to remember