Hung Up
Originally published September 2006
My phone has been destroyed/made disfunctional. In the meanwhile, I think I have realised a few things:
- I am not part of anyone’s lives other than my parents; which is quite disenchanting. The reason I say this is because the only people who have more to say to me than I do, are my parents. They are the only people who reply to as much as half of the mails I send them. They usually have something to add to whatever I say.
- Not having a phone is not too different from having one. There is nobody desperately wanting to communicate with me. The little bit that I need it for (people in the vicinity) can be handled easily.
These things mean that while everyone I want to “stay-in-touch-with” is busy with their lives while I have nothing to do. I did not expect that. When a lot of people do not reply to the mails I send, it must mean they are getting pestered and want to get on with their exciting new lives without me. Which is fine, I think.
This officially puts paid to my plans of mailing people regularly. I’d rather just get on with my life, all by myself.
In other news, have partied three and a half nights out of four in Alexandria. When in Bombay, I got drunk twice. That’s a healthy record. I do not drink to drown any sorrows. I drink when I am happy, to be merry. So basically, all the beer is good! Have to see a pretty belly dancer before the memory of the ugly one sets in. Got dunked in a pool under the extended effect of alcohol. That’s what has jacked my phone. Yet to be fixed. And yes, I live in a villa, with a pool table, a pool, bathrooms the size of badminton courts(I am not exaggerating!). Up the street is our store of beer. An infinite refrigerator full of beer. I remember people laughing at me in college when I said my fridge would be full of beer and wine. Well I’ll get to the wine soon, I am sure. And the whole place is about 400 yards from a lake and about 5–6 kilometres from what looks like a gorgeous beach. Let’s see how this pans out. Time. Time. Time.