Where the Streets have No Name

It was avvery strange night ... very unlike what could be expected. It was an aimless dark night filled with galaxies of conversation. Each disparate, each convoluted by the participants of the talk.

What could have been a drunken night of timepass was quite a revelation ... about us, what we thought and who we were. I think we learned a lot more about each other, lot more than we thought we were being thought of.

Starting out late night after being hungry for more than quite a few hours, we ended up in Jughead's (kind of a second home when it comes to eating when I am in Mumbai)... very fitting that I be there instead of some swanky place in Bandra. manesingh and sam provided with some entertainment and the various office drab issues took over; of how Manesingh was being mishandled by the women in Deloitte and the new found bhook which led to happy cashiers in the cafeteria at all times of the day. sam with how jhunsey should not misuse her and jhunzey's frank admission that the other way round was more possible.

So its 12 o'clock and we have a night forward ... and that 2 in Hiranandani, w/o a roof over our head and w/ rather shallow pockets :P So instead of taking an auto back to somebody's place (which did not exist as an option, refer to no roof above our head), we started walking back to somebody's place (which, of course, and as mentioned, did not exist). As we came across a patched piece of land beyond the empty streets and lonely side-walks of the back of Hiranandani, it seemed a good place. Good for waaht ? Of course, we didn’t know.. except that we had a few hours together. Aisa bhi nahi tha ki hum kal marne wale the ya kisi ki shaadi hone wali thi (which is why 1 of d members was missing @ KK) ya kisi ne kuch macha diya tha - there was nothing except time. And so we got talking! I strangely remember chiefly of the topics I spoke of or the point of views which I took. I remember what others spoke by relating to the comments I made. I wonder, if this is how we function. Remembering this research done on what we wear by some big university. It researched on who cares most about a dress you choose to wear. More than 95% of the times, its you. Thats what this account is then - what happened as fed into my small brains from my tinted glasses. Don't you think life is so too, sometimes? Perhaps, life is every experience which one has had and what one chose to or was able to retain from them. The 'chose to remember' part of any experience is something that you and I did like to believe in- but is just a myth. How we have shaped over the years is what moulds our tool of retention. Think of a funny friend of yours and how she/he would relate an experience which would sound so - yeah, funny. The experience would have been a plain vanilla incident of everyday passing but it was how he/she spoke of it that made it so unique. So's with us. We retain what our big big brains decide to consciously, subconsciously and unconsciously.

Pheww !! You get a drift of how random the conversations were just by my thoughts of it above. Back to it, by the way. The conversations ran deep on how some people are really friendly, how some of us are able to open to just about everybody and then sadly the repercussion of such a personality. The discussions were on how significant decisions are and if it really makes a difference. An opinion presented- If today I had the choice of deciding whether to have the third world war, I wouldn't care a damn as to what happened. We talked about the nothingness, the importance and the useless utility of it all. We talked about what our family members know of us. An interesting find - Girls told a lot to their family about their everyday lives and immediate siblings than guys did ( which I accept cannot be generailsed in any sense). Guys talked majorly to their parents of the friends their parents had been introduced to or had met them. The gals were pallier and had told their parents specially their siblings’ very intimate details.

We talked on how we are different with different groups, how some of us were one and the same with everybody. We talked on the things we talked about. What we showed, what we hid. What we knew and what we thought we knew. What we thought we were to people around us and what people around were to us.

All the time, we were being shoved from one place to the next, being cajoled with the sight of thanedar danda's to go to our homes. It served as a signal- the next spot to find in a sudden cat mouse game between the rebellious liberal youth and the traditional thola :) After having done quite a few rounds of our office building we were feeling woozy in the head (vertigo or acrophobia or .... that was another discussion for 20 minutes). A few puppies huddled together in a corner playfully snugging and running among each other were so cute to look at. The guards instead of chasing them away sat beside them. Almost like a vigil for the new-borns. I guess Deloitte doesn't know what they are paying the guards for and what or who is being guarded in the nights.

It ended with a walk along a large side-alley in the beautiful Hiranandani and an early entry into the park. The guard followed us for a few minutes (for slightly embarrassing obvious reasons) . Searching for swings to hook on to, we saw that it was a play park with only play things to look at. The tamboo for the swings had been put into the ground with the deep ocean blue coloured structure in place and the hooks ready for a swing, but no swing. Still not ones to be dissuaded, we hopped on to a spinning wheel. Strangely, it moved round and seemed to be functioning. Round-and-round-and-round we went till we were spinning. Hearing the noise(s), the guard came running to say that the swings were not strong enough and were being currently set. We promptly stopped, collected our fallen and strewn purses and bags. We apologised hoping he would not throw us out of the park. As an afterthought, I told him my weight and so did the rest of us. We said that if we could ride the swing there wouldn't be a kid worth his weight in entire Hiranandani who would be able to break the swing. The guy had a good morning's laugh and then let us be ... realising we were too kiddish to be doing the biggey-kid things he suspected we would be into :)

The elusive somebody's house was still not ready to take us in. Captain Morgan to the rescue ! The half-filled bottle and our full-hearted attempts to hide it from the guard's view led to quick gulps. The giggles started in no time. Sleep was definitely not worth the high spirits we were in. And the time was up. I had to give somebody the Morning Blues a little early by meeting them before I left Mumbai.

Talks were still on as we walked the longer way to find some autos to our destinations. There was no need to say that we had a great time and that we were so happy at meeting each other. I guess, all of us realized by this time that some things are beyond words and conversations. I guess, thats why they call them bonds of friendship. The two autos were still waiting, blazing their side indicators and waiting for us to board them. And the time was up. I knew what Bono meant when he sang the song - Where the Streets Have No name. And also what Kareena meant in Jab We met when she said - "Andhere raasto par chale ja rahe ho, Ratlam ki galiyon main !!"