BUSES AND BOYS IN BANGALORE

I walked into ‘the boys’ house and proceeded to aim some carefully oriented blows at Suri boy’s posterior. ‘Wake him up with a KI-ss not a KI-ck!’ exclaimed Suri boy’s roommate. Minutes later Suri boy groggily theorized that as long as I did not wake him up with a KI-ll, he would live to tell the story [that punster boy him!]

I was anticipating an adventurous day in Bangalore. I was scheduled to meet my external project guide at Mindtree Consultancy, the company I am currently interning in. The office was in Global Village, some 25 km from ‘the boys’ house. After semi-frantic calls to my guide and my project partner, a hurried ablutions conduct, repossessing Suri boy’s ATM and [very expensive] cell phone, dropping him off at his workplace and a forty five minute solitary wait [which included going through ALL 800 of Suri boy’s messages without the imperative imprimatur of course, a random foray into a city-village and vociferous whining to Ara and the group] I was on the bus headed to Global Village. I also managed to sneak in a call to Suri boy wondering [with apparent concern] about his state minus the money and the telecommunication. “Naked.” pat came the repartee. I grinned.

The meeting with my guide was uneventful, save one minor scare where my guide insisted I give a demonstration as to what I understood about my project. I deftly [if I say so myself] digressed to more earthly [and non-academic] concerns of long hours of travel, three year old babies and the beautiful, beautiful Mindtree office. It really was. Colourful and wildly original.
The journey back [this time after an hour long wait during which I had no more messages to read :-(] was tiring, yet I felt a little proud. I have been in Delhi all my life and public transport was deemed unsafe by my parents, which means I either drove or was driven to everywhere. [and no, I ain’t some spoilt brat] I have never really traveled by public transport all by myself, and this was a first. Do NOT take away my lil’ pleasures. Hmph.
On my way back I stopped by Landmark [I incidentally hold a record of ALWAYS coming out with at least one book from there], and picked up Knut Hamsun’s Victoria and a collection of short stories by Wilde which is a happy parrot green colour. Happiness.
Headed back to ‘the boys’ house where I [finally] met B boy’s girl. I liked her instantly and persevered to impress upon B boy that he was tremendously lucky. He balked.
The next two days [yes, it IS becoming an incredibly long post] were spent in gay marathons around the city [and on its very dangerous roads]; a couple of hours in Purple Haze with some Audioslave, David Gilmour, Fool’s Garden and Draught beer; lots of cheese; meeting the respective girls of the respective boys [yes there were more] and swift swoons on being gifted The Last Mughal [by Dalrymple]. It is the most gorgeous book I have laid eyes on in a while.
And of course lending a patient ear to Suri boy’s girlfriend woes. I might have even made things better! Ha! You owe me Suri boy.

Now I am back. Blah.