Premshree's (品速力) Personal Weblog

Heh, there’s such a clear difference between Mumbai and Bangalore. With my 3-week Bangalore mentality, every time I took a cab, I was all set for the cabbie to ask me, “50 extra, sir.” Ah, but no one bullshits here.

Warren and I took a cab from Pune to Bombay (Borivali, to be specific—less than 2.5 hours); one grand—no “extra, sir; petrol, sir” bullshit. A rick from Borivali to home; night meter charges. No bullshit.

Fuck! This is Bombay. Alive. No bullshit.

After yesterday’s talks, there was some kinda cultural fest and a dinner party, at the management institute. There was a good reason we should’ve been there, but there was a better reason for not: we were in Pune only for a day. So freegeek, who was bored and all—and apparently hasn’t slept for the past three or four days—, [insert somebody here], Warren and I went to this place called Apache. It was bad at first—crap music, no people, bad service, blah, blah. Later in the evening: loaded with college folks, good music, good booze (Warren didn’t like the booze, though). Nice day. Neato.

Pune isn’t bad, actually. Students everywhere. I miss being a student. I miss college. No, really.

So when things have to go wrong they go wrong royally. After I reached home (03:30), had some dinner, and went off to sleep. Woke up early, 06:50—that’s really early—, had¹ breakfast²—after a really long time—more than three weeks.

Flight at 11:30. Happily left home at 10:00. Took a rick to the airport. Highway. Traffic. Fuck! Traffic’s not moving. Double fuck! Traffic’s moving—slow, though. Ah! It’s terribly warm. Damn, Bangalore’s so nice! Time? 10:50. Where? Not close to the airport. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Reached airport at 11:13. Flight’s on schedule. Surprise! Fuck! Ding! Surprise! Counter’s closed. Holy shit! I hear couple of folks: “I have a flight to Bangalore, can you please check me in!” Ah, I have company. We stand there for like more than five minutes, and the female sitting behind the counter is doing some other shit. I shout at the supervisor (or whoever he was) who was standing behind the counter. He asks the female to close the counter. We plead amd shit, and I finally get the boarding pass. Phew!

¹ Didn’t have it myself; mom fed.
² I should’t have had breakfast; now I’ll feel terribly hungry in the mornings, for a few days to come.

PS: This post was composed during my boring flight; someday I’ll be able to post too.