Again, another Sunday afternoon of arm-rests and lazy lunches. Did I tell you I am sitting in this tiny space of two little rooms and a kitchenette and an ancient coffee machine almost all alone except for this guy I don't know what to do with? Like sometimes you just sit and laze around and let go? I get to do that with this guy. There have been times we've wafted in and out of self-induced reveries sitting side by side lapping up each others' presence inside auto rickshaws, vanity vans,local trains, dimly lit bars, his room with red walls and once even on Marine Drive.

Once he was siting upright and looking dreamy because of the alcohol in his system and I was sleepy and groggy and the tube light was shut off and the moon light found its way between us and he was narrating stories of his unmade films and I was staring straight into his shining eyes, and I thought, "Fuck, this guy reminds me of my childhood". And that was it.