It’s an inside of glass door of somewhere in Mumbai. There are two people, one more guy apart from me . And also there’s a waiter. The room is BaskinRobin and the weather is summer. The other guy is a familiar face from the office. Office-yeah that place which makes able to pay for this extravagant ice-cream. I am considered good at my work there. There’s a guy that sits across my cubicle. He’s good too. We never talked. But I know he can recognize me on streets. If I ever go out. I have though perfected the art of smiling fake. It comes with practice.
Often, quiet people have the loudest mind. As I see it, being silent to a speaking person is a lot like torturing him, for he will pour out all secrets. Revel everything about himself. People argue meeting new people and making them your friends is what defines your existence. Bullshit. Wherever you go, people are all same. Deep lust for money and sex and all their life decisions are routed through that. The friends they go on making are nothing more than acquaintances. Real friends are those who were next to you when the professors went berserk in a viva. They stay. Unless of course, you are an asshole. Instead of trying to understand the whole motherfucking world, it’s more important to understand yourself.
Instead of trying to understand the whole motherfucking world, it’s more important to understand yourself. Nothing helps you more peep into yourself than a good book. They may not have to be those heavier ones. A mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone if it is to keep its edge, said Tyrion Lannister. He was a silver-tongued.
Fifteen minutes and many Game of Thrones moments later my Ice-cream is finished. The other guy is long gone. I paid for the extravagant ice-cream and gave waiter the perfect fake smile.