Wednesday, March 28, 2007

The night was long...

Dear ***,
I feel weary today. But it is a nice stretchy feeling. You know, a feeling of such sorts arises out of a sense of sublime satisfaction after something. Last night I just did that. No not that, OBVIOUSLY!

You know girl, I couldn't meet you on Sunday. I have my own bag of troubles which was heavier that evening. Last night however when I called you a million, zillion, gazillion times, and by this time, I even have a recorded electronic voice travelling in the back of my head, "Tamay je number sampark sadhvanuche....is switched off or out of coverage area!" It went on and on and on and on. And on and on and on and on. But I am not the one to give up something so cherished on such an easy note.

The words I gathered since you landed in Mumbai, were " I am somewhere at NCPA...free today but not tomorrow...Lakme Fashion Show begins...launch party....Bastard....I'm on roaming!" So much for a courtsey call.

Last night I thought of 'gatecrashing' at the show as giving you a sweet surprise at NCPA. Good friends of Lakme. We start on an enthusiastic roar after an invigourating drink. Let the frenetic search begin!

NCPA was haunting at 11 o'clock in the night. I could see grand silhouettes of pink and red backdrops for the show being installed, however there was no humdrum of a ramp, neither could I see any melee of fashionistas. Duh.. I went to some people who seem to be event executives, they had no idea of a pre-launch party. I call again. Recorded voice.

Then we check Cafe Sidewok by the NCPA. Reassured by the security of rare possibility of a launch party, and dejected already, we thought of taking a walk at Marive Drive. But somewhere in my mind I knew I had to try more. So we took a cab to Cafe Mondegar. Checked the place inside out. The manager suggested to try Leopolds'. I looked out for that familiar face which I had never seen in flesh and blood. I was waiting for a glimpse of the brilliant gleam of your eyes and the wisp of your curls to hit me out from the crowd. Phew! Wasn't of any avail. Where are you ***? How stupid of you to put your only means of communication, off! How stupid of me to not meet you till now!

We head off towards Colaba, and think of all the possible places you might be on a weekday, that too at the start of the week! Privee? Khyber?, JAzz by the Bay?....Maybe Tavern! We ask our cabbie to wait outside Tavern. I walk in and walk out. They were showing the Pink Floyd anthem on the large screen and people still had the head to sway to the number played innumerous times since decades. Well Vivek had suggested to check the Terrace Bar at the Strand Hotel. I pretty much liked the place when I reached the top where I could see the glam-lit Mumbai skyline as gentle waves struck the jettied boats bobbing by the Drive. The night was humid and the air was heavy, four floors above the sea.

We thought of catching up with a refresher drink. It was way past 1 o'clock already as we talked on things like intellectual stimulus, and how intellectual spriritualism is a better way to escape rather than spiritual practice, itself. (That's a whole new spectrum altogether ...another chapter). For a moment I thought I was not calling you anymore. You might be asleep by now tucked in a cosy corner somewhere in the buildings around me. :) So I might as well let you sleep, as I did not want to disturb the recorded voice on your phone service. You got a long week ahead. I had a long night, last night. Take Good Care.

My call and my self could not reach you. By the time you read this, you would be away, already.

Love,
***.

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