Everytime I get onto a bus the blasted love of public transport flows in and settles till I'm going Arre wah wah wah waaaah in the very same way as in the song, even the grin in my head is like Kishore Kumar, which is a little scary but that isn't the point. I got pickpocketed today. Or my pocket was picked, whichever sounds right. It isn't fair that this should happen on the very weekend I have to buy birthday presents and have more money in my wallet than necessary, but does the weary world lift a wrinkled eyelid if I have to live on ten rupees a day for the next three weeks? Of course it doesn't. Does the bleeding pickpocket care that I was stranded for half a bleeding hour outside Zeeshan on a hungry stomach with no bleeding money for a bleeding roll? Of course he doesn't. Does anybody care that I had to be snubbed by the snooty people at SBI for wanting to cancel my card? Fathers in taxis will vouch for the opposite but right now it's all my fault, neh? Feel free to kick me if I go around saying it was a learning experience and I'm wiser now, because at the end of the day I'll still go wah wah wah waaaah at public transport, even the fact that it comes with pickpockets gives it that edge over, ah, kickboxing.

Problem is, pickpockets are all I have till outer space exploration comes calling. Or the next train ticket, whichever gets precedence in the bigger plan of things. Phaaaaaah. Maybe I should just drop acid and tell everyone I had a cosmic experience or something.