Monday, November 26, 2007

Nice I wrote a whole bit, and it got lost. It didn't really matter what I wrote because as far as I can think it was not going to save the planet and or make you feel any better. The trouble is that when you write something, you don't want it to be irretrievable.
I have reasons to feel that I'm disconnected. Is it just people, or some people? And it's nothing to do with company or anything of that sort that I'm with. It's just that last evening I was at father's bookshop, which is meant to be in a posh market block, and I peeked through the glass door of the bookstore to find no one who could give me an impression that books are read for fun. It's not that people don't read.
I don't care really. I mean, it's not my job to care if people are downright stupid or almost getting there. But what troubled me is that I don't relate to anyone out there.
Women look terrible today. (Calm down femmies, I don't mean to piss ye off). The real trouble is that I can't seem to tell who exactly they are. They wear terribly expensive clothes that just doesn't agree with them. Now here's a girl who was in some vest and here I am in a jacket out in the open. Their style of talking is crass, uncultured but they have the bucks to roll. Maybe people I agree only come out in select. But what the city's opened to is some sort of a middle class that's doing brilliantly, financially -- but seems to be torn off all decency.
They spoil the night. Every guy's gelled like a goat crossed with a pig, sucks to ultra mild cigarette as though it's a Frooty straw, and is drunk silly, either blatantly checkin a chick out or trying to pick on another fuck trying to check his chick out. Does it make sense.
But these are people roughly my age. I don't give a fuck of how they affect global warming and the economy of our country -- but they look so bad.
The trouble is that they aren't punks, or some part of an underground movement, just losers flying around the city. What angers me is their arrogance.
I don't want people to reform cause it's not my prerogative to be Mother T or win some Nobel Peace -- but for the sake of other people's mind. Uncool. Ruined the rest of my evening.



Blogger Renovatio said...

I hate the saying, 'Money speaks and money talks', but that's precisely what's happening. Although I did find a dollop of 'old money' the other day in Green Park, I was giving my mum a ride to a bookstore, and let her actually drive my car for the first time. This mid-twenties fellow in an slk stopped at a lightless crossing and beckoned for her to drive on by, to which she went off to a tirade on the exact same thing, as an octavia tore on by with those horrid camera flash lights and blaring music, with a driver inside who had sunglasses on. This was around 7 in the evening, and you know how dark it gets in Delhi around that time these days.

11:00 PM, November 27, 2007  

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