Thursday, December 29, 2011


One day, I am going to die in a car crash or a plane crash or cancer or a successful suicide attempt. And you are going to die too. Until then we're going to sit here with our empty glasses and overtold stories and the rest of our lives waiting waiting waiting and dreaming as the cold winter mornings come like a splash of cold water and your teeth chatter and your body shivers trying to generate some warmth. You can literally see the trees wake up and the road is a fucking polar ice cap.

Winter makes everything slow down. The stray dogs wake up and start looking around for a sunlit spot to dig a hole and do God knows what. Same old city. Same old apartments and same old trees neatly lining the same old roads. Same old muffler clad sabjiwaalah comes to the colony porch every morning. Same fucking stray dogs. Your friend's siblings are now your sibling's friends. Evenings are spent in the same old coffee shop repeating stories you'd told last year. When did this town shrink so much? You drive past your old school trying to see if anything has changed. Then back to the coffee shop.

There is a frustrating anticipation in this stillness. A new year is about to begin. Car crash, plane crash, cancer or suicide attempt?

Of guitars and paintbrushes....(and a few other things too) Headline Animator