Life is like the last limp and soggy noodle on a plate. No matter how many times you stab at it in a sophisticated fashion, it just won’t come under control. It’s slip and slide like it’s inside a…slip and slide! It’s only when you get down right dirty with it, does it let up.

Do you know how long I thought about that line? A full 10 minutes. Yeah. On hindsight now though the line doesn’t seem that special. Yeah. It doesn’t.

Never mind.

Life. Ah, a small 4 letter, 3 syllable word that is supposed to encapsulate the entirety of your grandma’s sordid existence. From the time she was a young girl who didn’t understand the machinations of her vagina, to the time she begot 10 kids with her husband, ah, her life, everyone’s life can be explained, or spoken of, with just that one word. Life.

Of course, once you start on that topic, you end up discussing names. Cities, countries, uh…religion, orientation, although of course if you’re in India then it’s obvious you’re straight, unless you act like Bobby Darling. Ha. No, kidding. I think my circle of people is pretty cool. Orientation has never come up as a topic, we are so cool about it. Hmm.

Once you’re beyond the basic necessities, you end up discussing other things. Like childhoods. But you don’t get there so quickly. No. No, no, no. That’s only reserved for your therapist.

“My <parent name here> wasn’t very nice to me, you see?” I don’t know how many therapist sessions must’ve started like this. God I know so many of mine started this way. I would open up, the therapist would nod, and well I would ramble on and on. Hey, it felt cool to talk so freely and without any censor. Like here(I’m trying.).

But then the therapy would end and the therapist would go. Yeah, that’s 2000 bucks and your 45 minutes are up. I felt like I’d just got done with a prostitute. Not that I have, But I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how you feel. I spoke so much that I started to feel good about myself. “Yeah! I’m an okay bloke, I guess. I mean, sure, I did those horrible things but it’s okay. Time is the biggest healer. People live and forget. Right? Totally! It happens ALL the time! So many people go through this stuff.”

Okay, I’ll admit. It’s pretty horrible. I never felt good on that couch. Never. It was always horrible. I couldn’t fucking fathom what turns my life had taken for me to end up paying someone so much money to get help. Meh.

Anyway, where was I? Yes, life. People discuss life. Umm, they discuss events. Cool events. Like, hey, did that trip to Leh, Ladakh recently. Yeah, rented a bike/car/off-roader-that-looks-so-damn-sexy-but-you-puked-in-it-twice-because-it-was-so-wide-that-you-nearly-pissed-yourself-when-you-were-on-that-edgeAAAARRRGHHHH!

And of course you exchange pics. You know, “Hey are you on instagram?”

“Yeah, duh!”

“OMG, what’s your ID?”

“It’s like, snow.leo.starsign.love.xoxo.bff.love.21”

“OMG! It’s just like mine! Fire.spirit.luv.bff.googlyeyes.truelibra.19”

Yeah, hey. Instagram. And then a quick scrutiny tells you who they are and how they are. Okay, that’s cool. My instagram feed is dull. It’s like, I don’t care about pictures. If I clicked pictures it’d be pictures of my head. Looking so dead. Every time I feel like smiling, I can hear he levers and pullies in my head just getting things moving, shifting and chasing gears, making joints stuck in a perpetual frown move into a forced smile.

It’s happened a couple of times to me. In my room I have a dead face. So when my friends come over or I meet them, my face automatically goes into smile mode. So when I see a friend, it’s smile mode. When I greet them, it’s smile mode. When they give me some bad news about their life, smile mode.

Yeah, it’s like my face forgot how to change expression, right? So it’s stuck in smile mode for a while, just stuck. So it can’t really go into non-smile mode for just a brief period and come back. No no. It sort of stays there. That’s why I’m socially awkward. Duh.

And so past such pleasantries(yes career and education and all that are discussed too, future and crap. But I refuse to discuss it here because I’m still loading the answer in my head, so if anyone asks, the processor is running at max capacity to solve that very question. And hence,  the silence.

The part that usually comes next is attempts at situational comedy. There is a very crucial period where you have to passionately connect over a hobby. But, if you don’t get connected, well then you have to look around for situational comedy. things like, umm, hey the ladies are NICE…<look over at the guys face for response><Yes?/No?>Uh…

<Yes> Great no man? Fuck…

And if <No> “Hey uh…I was just kidding. Main to behen manta hun! Sister…”

Okay, I’m being a bit of a prick. It’s not like that. Most places the scene is really mature. You just point at the drunkest chick to a homie.

Kidding. You just don’t drink and you stay having meaningful deep and thought provoking conversations about the Bhagvad Gita. Yes, I go to those parties.

You know, it’s hard to pull off situational comedy about life. What do you say? Ah, look at the weather? Things are definitely looking up! They can either be good weather or bad weather? If it’s okay weather…you can’t talk about it. I mean, hey the weather is okay.

I’ve had so many conversations off late about how hot the goddamn city is. It’s DELHI. It heats up in the summer. I mean, okay, I say it a lot too. But okay, hey, whatever. It’s hot. Go tell me something I can’t feel inside my bones.

Well, I can only think of this till now. Honestly, I can think of more but I will refrain from discussing it all here. Maybe another post. Give me reason to sound uppity and shit.