Peak Hour Lessons

So after work, Arpeeta and I decided to meet up at her cousins cafe..

Digression #1- Her cousin Puja owns this scrumptious eatery called 'Paisley & Cream' and the food there is absolutely DELISH. The deco is lovely, the food is not only delicious but comes in healthy proportions..none of that 'Here's your spaghetti..all 4 strands of it' rubbish. I've got warm, fuzzy feelings towards that place coz I spent many a day working there when I was jobless (I got paid in cupcakes..which by the way, are mindblowing). Anyway..go visit it! Go, go, go! Tell them you know Mahi, you may get a cookie for free..you never know!

Digression #2- Yes, I've started work! It's at an advertising agency and so far, I'm loving it! The environment is creative, the radio is on all day, the colleagues are dirty minded, the work is challenging yet fun...have I mentioned how much I love it?
(Dear Boss..if you're reading this..please increase my pay. Thank you. You're awesome.)

So carrying on, I decided to take a cab to Paisley & Cream, from my workplace.
Bad idea.

Let this be a lesson to all of you, please do not even think of taking a cab during peak hour. I reckon the surcharges are MORE than the actual fare. In fact, the only reason why the fare keeps increasing is because of those goddammned traffic lights. Bloody hell.
Also, if you get a cabbie who goes 'Haaahhhh?' when you mention a location, please hop the hell out of the cab. Coz not only will there be a lot of under-the-surface hostility between passenger and cabbie (because you now hate the cabbie for being an idiot and because the cabbie hates you for making him feel like an idiot) but also because you're just going to waste a butt-load of money on what could've been a super short ride HAD the cabbie just listened to me or known just where the hell he was going.


I actually get along pretty damn well cabbies. For some reason they love telling me their life stories, not that I'm complaining..I enjoy listening and I like to throw in the occasional "How unfair!" or "Terrible..absolutely terrible" or "Oh! Your wife is such. a. whore!"

But ugh. I really dislike cabbies who blame their lack of sense of direction on me. If I knew how to get there, I'd walk or take the damn bus, man!


*Napoleon Dynamite style*
GOSH!!

Missing out.

I remember a time in my life, when I must have been about 7 or 8- I had got the idea in my head that I was the reincarnation of Lord Krishna. It's ironic that while now we have such defined divisions of whats male and female, back then those divisions didn't matter..after all God was God, regardless of gender.

I would walk around my grandparents with a flute in hand, wearing a salwar without its kameez, my one main aim to steal the fresh, white butter that my grandmother had just churned.

After I would find the butter, which my grandmother would always deviously hide behind the water pot, I would carefully smear some near my mouth - a blatant sign of my thievery, and then I would dance in front of my grandparents in celebration of my missions success.

These days, life just seems like a series of 'ups' and 'downs', which sometimes follow each other far too quickly for me to keep up.
The 'downs' tire me..the 'ups' - even more so.

When did happiness become something you had to work for? When did happiness become something you had to bend over backwards to earn? When did happiness start to cost you peace of mind?

And then I start to wonder if it had always been like this..if happiness and sadness were just mere states we told ourselves we were in, after a run in with lady luck. If the next down was inevitable because you were only this happy if something was being prepared to be taken away from you.

Then I think back to my grandparents. And how my days were made with their loving smiles at my innocent act of thievery.
And I think a part of me inwardly weeps for those days.