Being together has come to mean the act of ignoring (trying to ignore, if you’re the male half of this arrangement) the fact that we’re about half a planet apart and hanging onto the headfones long after the jaws’ve given out, in hope of getting across, drinking in, another moment of the day we cannot share. With this blog, doing something together now means channelizing all the energy that goes into alternately tearing your hair out and damaging friendships four years old(again, the male version) while the other sleeps. Alright, not entirely true, it was also supposed to mean writing vile things instead of doing vile things while the other, who, by the way, can’t be awoken by anything as simple as a phone ringing 16 times, sleeps.
He paints a very romantic picture of me. Before I’m etched forever in the memories of our non-existent readers as Amazonian, I must say that I am quite terrified. of everything. by habit. We live in this picturesque misery and I just happen to be the one getting to sleep when the rest of (my part of) the world sleeps and without interruption and hence would seem more unruffled. He’s the hero of this piece, knows it and is very hero-like in being so unhero-like. Trust me, ladies; this is what we’ve been looking for all these years. Oh, I forget. Buhahahahaha, he’s taken!
Alright, that he’s taken doesn’t mean we’ve to stop discussing him, does it?
Besides being such a delicious treat to famished Indian eyes, he’s the only person I know who can offend at least two people he knows, three that he doesn’t, a coupla different nations and ethnic groups, certain types of tropical insects and all types of women with almost everything he writes. He’s passionate about defeating the entire purpose of language with every sentence he writes.
A proud flag-bearer of Nasty Nation.
A zealous music spelunker who discovered an entire generation of alt-rock bands that appears to have conspired to make songs just for us.
A devout, sometimes militant, fan of movies that leave me sobbing till an hour after they’ve ended.
My love, of exquisite taste and spectacular talent yet grand follies.
Perfect coated in chocolate.
Alright, this was supposed to be the last lap in the tribute to the Holy Trinity of the internet - social networking, IM and blogging, but is turning into a fawn fest. Now, that won’t do, will it?
So,I declare this blog open, enriched by my presence and ready for some bad ass mudslinging.
Aw, honey, don’t be like that.