second helping

I remember the first - maybe the only - spit shake of my life. I remember who the spit shake was with, but strangely I can't remember what it was about. Imagine the importance of a promise that I actually resorted to a spit shake - and how ironic that I can't remember what I wasted all that saliva for!

I'm not a bullet point presentation. I'm a long essay.
I tell long stories.

So those who are interested in the "gist" or the "crux" of things, don't interest me.

I would like to run away somewhere. Away from my life and the people in it. Just for a while.
A white balcony - just enough for one person and her cup of coffee. A book or a notebook to write in. A letter or a silly poem.
As an alternative, I will settle for a stranger. Someone I don't know. Someone who doesn't know anything about me but my name. Someone who is not acquainted with my baggage and doesn't care to share theirs. Over a long conversation. Or a walk.

There are some friends that, in the middle of a really serious conversation, can just make you burst out laughing. #arvind