Manju said, "Drive Carefully - humans are meant to be knocked down by trucks."
"Uh?"
"We are soft. Bone and cartilege. Trucks are iron."
"Horses are at least softer."
"They couldn't be mass-produced."
"Lets go back to horses."
It has been a lifetime ambition of mine to own a horse. To ride a horse, instead of the scooter. Sometimes, in delirioum it seems very funny - the way we ride around on steel scooters exhaling shit.
It makes me think - if humans were meant to be knocked down by trucks. Were horses kinder to our condition?
Don't know. The poor horses also hurt when they fell. They are more sympathetic.
"What turns you on?" It is who you are. I can stare at you, numb when you mention racing or working on a brochure for someone like Pramod Mahajan.
Like yesterday. I came back home in the evening and I was breathing in a fine, evenly paced manner. I was sitting in my living room staring at the TV. Happy. Relaxed. The sky was not falling over my head. I wasn't trying to win the war in my head, hunt in the forest, dance in the rain. No. Nothing. I was in the most reasonably sincere kind of silence. Silence in terms of motivation, fire. I had put on some good music and was singing at the top of my voice. "Hey, how does that sound?"
The curtains were drawn, there was no water at home. Yesterday I started the day with the news that the Ambanis had split the Reliance empire between them.
As a story element, I was last evening in the middle of a storm and a fever. I wasn't sure what I was closer to. I have so much work piling up, and I do not want to be a meaningless horse shitting in the same place. So I am pacing myself out.
Some friends, keep reminding me to reply to their mails and I keep procastinating. And then I write back and then they forget and then I forget and then we are all living in forgetfulness.