Sitting with my 'adrak' ki chai and my laptop in my room, I feel totally calm and composed. My breaths are slow and deep and I'm keeping a decent health at this time. In total, I'm all set to scribble my new post, which talks about the different phases of my life when I not even for once fail to prove to the world that I am one hell of a naughty, mechant(the 'e' is with an accent ague) and a bad bad girl.
This also thus proves that I don't find it embarrassing at all to confess to the world what I feel about the boys that live right in front of my apartment. (oops... there you go)
As I was busy making tea for myself in the kitchen, my eyes (obviously not deliberately) shifted towards the balcony of these gentlemen that I told you of a little while ago. The door to the adjacent room was ajar and outside was a pair of dirty yellow ropes tied to either end of the wall, most obviously to hang out clothes to dry. For most of the time, I have always seen only a couple of not so clean towels and dozens of the navy blue coloured ‘Roopas’ hanging happily outside. Sometimes I doubt either they have a trunk full of Roopas with them OR something I’d not so much as even want to think about is that they wash them once every 2 months and by the time they wait for the dearies to dry, they roam around stark naked in their house :o
While the black tea was waiting for the final pour of the milk to finish off its boiling ordeal, I was busy trying to peep inside the room following the monotonous balcony. All I could see was the switch board, a black bag resting on the floor and nothing more and nothing less.
Moreover, I secretly tend to judge the inmates by the national flags that they hang outside to dry. Not that I'm serious about the judgement that I finally make or the conclusions that I come to. But there is this psychological thing that people have that they measure a person's personality by his clothes. And I'm very close to that, only that the things that I was examining were more or less clothes only :P
And trust me I have NEVER come across any guy who lives in that flat. Never. I don't know when do they come and when do they go, all that I have seen is you-know-what :)
I admit its naughty of me, and also nosy, but believe it or not, its fun sometimes. And that tea only takes not more than ten minutes to cook, I don't have much chance to contemplate over the identity issue.