I met a friend in Dubai. Rather, I went to meet a friend in Dubai. Amazing how different the two statements be. At a table I said, "I thunk about it..." Someone interjected and asked/ exclaimed, "Thunk??!!!". I smiled at my friend, may be he nose that I love messing with the English language.
Random trips are fun because they can be so unplanned and therefore quite the adventure even if one might be in a boring place like Dubai. On my flight back from Dubai I saw Dhobi Ghat on the plane. Quite annoying how poor the quality of the video can be on that contraption that ejects from the side of one's seat - the ones in the beginning of the columns of seats. The airhostess was from Spain - always nice to look at and speak to a pretty face. It's one of those shallow indulgences. Beautiful. Told her about Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, half knowing that another brown bugger must have already said that...
"Have you been to Bombay? No. How is it? Crowded. Aaah.. but the rains in Bombay, the rains are marvelous. Nothing like it. The smell of the rains. "
I was down three small bottles of Shiraz from Australia. It was quite alright. I remember losing some motor control after the third bottle.
I helped a mother haul her suitcases because she had her child in her arms. There I was, drunk and helping a pretty woman. Oddly enough, people who greeted her thought I was her husband. Freakkkkkyyy. 'Tis the small things my friends...
I remember talking to a young British boy (boys are always young aren't they?) on top of a sand dune. He was rattling away about how he has been to Kenya and Egypt and how her grandma is quite old.. "When she dies, she said she would leave her mansion to us so we can go whenever we wished to." I liked that he said 'when'.
Got some mehendi on my forearm - my name in Arabic with some grotesque design surrounding it.
I felt younger and older. I always do. Bursts of spark greet my everyday in my journey through life towards death.
Random trips are fun because they can be so unplanned and therefore quite the adventure even if one might be in a boring place like Dubai. On my flight back from Dubai I saw Dhobi Ghat on the plane. Quite annoying how poor the quality of the video can be on that contraption that ejects from the side of one's seat - the ones in the beginning of the columns of seats. The airhostess was from Spain - always nice to look at and speak to a pretty face. It's one of those shallow indulgences. Beautiful. Told her about Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, half knowing that another brown bugger must have already said that...
"Have you been to Bombay? No. How is it? Crowded. Aaah.. but the rains in Bombay, the rains are marvelous. Nothing like it. The smell of the rains. "
I was down three small bottles of Shiraz from Australia. It was quite alright. I remember losing some motor control after the third bottle.
I helped a mother haul her suitcases because she had her child in her arms. There I was, drunk and helping a pretty woman. Oddly enough, people who greeted her thought I was her husband. Freakkkkkyyy. 'Tis the small things my friends...
I remember talking to a young British boy (boys are always young aren't they?) on top of a sand dune. He was rattling away about how he has been to Kenya and Egypt and how her grandma is quite old.. "When she dies, she said she would leave her mansion to us so we can go whenever we wished to." I liked that he said 'when'.
Got some mehendi on my forearm - my name in Arabic with some grotesque design surrounding it.
I felt younger and older. I always do. Bursts of spark greet my everyday in my journey through life towards death.
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