Tuesday, February 22, 2011


I was on my way to the workplace today, and I saw something that scraped up skin inside of me. It was just a bunch of words at the back of the Auto driver's seat. It's nothing new for someone who lives in Bombay. You have the usual declarations of love, friendship, profession, and promiscuous nature. After a point, you just block it out. Elevator walls, 10 rupee notes, bathrooms, bridges.

I have no idea why I looked where I did. It was out of my line of vision. I was smoking my cigarette, talking to my sister, the usual pre-11am numbness. But I looked. Fucked if I didn't. I looked straight at it.

The words were written in Marathi. It took a good 20 seconds for them to sink in. Not that I didn't get them. I did. The problem was, I got them more than I should have.

"आई माझी होईल का ?"