“Hey”
“Hello, sorry I couldn't pick up last time. The call woke me up but by the time I'd got down from bed, the phone got disconnected. These winter mornings are just so comfortable under the blankets. Getting up is always a task. You know how I love sleeping late. Especially these days when there's no hurry. ”
“How are things?”
“Not much different from last night. I'd forgotten to tell you.. I finished The Stand yesterday afternoon.'
“How'd you like it?”
“Not too bad. As you said, I think it's a bit too long. But with Stephen King, even the lengthier passages are never uninteresting.. “
“.. Even if they are irrelevant to the plotline. But yes, I get what you mean. Which reminds me, I still haven't finished Hearts in Atlantis. But I find it impossible to forget that 1969 quarter. Absolute, complete magic. “
“He writes so well”
“Wrote”
“.... yes. I forget sometimes.”
“I wonder how he felt when it was evident that life was imitating art to a worrying, then alarming, finally almost exact extent”
“Sigh.. your rhetoric will never cease” “What's your point? This is how I speak” “Yes, yes. I know”
“You know me better than anyone else.” “And now that's absolutely true..”
“.... I rather liked the ending of The Stand. I'd feared it would be happier. “ “.... “
“What?”
“Our conversations haven't changed much, have they?
“Should they have?”
“Hello, sorry I couldn't pick up last time. The call woke me up but by the time I'd got down from bed, the phone got disconnected. These winter mornings are just so comfortable under the blankets. Getting up is always a task. You know how I love sleeping late. Especially these days when there's no hurry. ”
“How are things?”
“Not much different from last night. I'd forgotten to tell you.. I finished The Stand yesterday afternoon.'
“How'd you like it?”
“Not too bad. As you said, I think it's a bit too long. But with Stephen King, even the lengthier passages are never uninteresting.. “
“.. Even if they are irrelevant to the plotline. But yes, I get what you mean. Which reminds me, I still haven't finished Hearts in Atlantis. But I find it impossible to forget that 1969 quarter. Absolute, complete magic. “
“He writes so well”
“Wrote”
“.... yes. I forget sometimes.”
“I wonder how he felt when it was evident that life was imitating art to a worrying, then alarming, finally almost exact extent”
“Sigh.. your rhetoric will never cease” “What's your point? This is how I speak” “Yes, yes. I know”
“You know me better than anyone else.” “And now that's absolutely true..”
“.... I rather liked the ending of The Stand. I'd feared it would be happier. “ “.... “
“What?”
“Our conversations haven't changed much, have they?
“Should they have?”
“I don't know.. perhaps.. this seems too callous in the wake of.. you know”
“What's the point? I was thinking about it.. how long has it been? A month, two? I seem to be losing
track.. Time as told by sunrise and sunset.. Sheer blind impossible luck that this persists.. In a way, if
you take the world as just comprising you and me, nothing has changed, nothing at all. We talk twice a
day, we're still separated by 13 and a 1⁄2 hours and an ocean..actually it could be back to 12 and a 1⁄2
now.. I never got the Daylight Savings bit.. and we still have the same pointless arguments... and.. I
don't know about you.. but I still like you as much, if with a little more fatalism than before”
“Fatalism, why? And I like you too.. A lot”
“Fatalism.. why.. Princess.. this is a miracle.. you and me continuing this.. like nothing ever happened.. despite so much actually taking place.. everything's changed.. the streets are dead silent.. there are no cars, no ice cream trucks.. no people.. no parties.. we're getting used to the houses having no power.. there's no Google anymore.. I don't know how to fix things.. never did.. don't even have online tutorials anymore.. and the landlines we're using run on backup power from the telephone offices.. I'm pretty sure that isn't an infinite source.. though given the load these days chances are it'll go for awhile yet.. but we have to accept the fact that it could go any day.. and it will almost certainly go eventually... “
“Like a pet cat or dog... you know they'll die before you do.. and you know how sad it will make you... but you mentally prepare yourself.. and let it go for the present.. enjoying their company”
“Yes. Every morning when I pick up the phone, I think this is it.. I won't hear a dialtone.. or I'll call and there won't be an answer from your end because your home telephone exchange backup power died.. and then.. I don't know what I'll do.. I've lived without you.. 11000 miles away from you for so long.. but this would be unfathomable.. “
“Don't think about it so much.. if it happens, it will”
“Do you realize that would mean never.. even the most impossibly optimistic view couldn't look past that”
“There's nothing we can do about it” “No. No we can't”
“I've thought about.. you know.. taking matters into my own hands.. I'm also sorry about the euphemisms.. you know me, this is how I speak, I can't change that.. anyway.. as I was saying.. I've thought about, in the eventuality that our telephone conversations stop, taking matters into my own hands.. this is America after all, a firearm shouldn't be too hard to locate.. I might have to go scouring in some of the poor neighbourhoods, but I'm certain I'll eventually find one.. or if that doesn't work out as a means to an end, I can always hunt around in the pharmaceuticals.. sleeping pills or whatever.. “
“You won't.”
“Won't what.. find a way or go through with what I've thought about?” “Won't go through with it. You're not brave enough.. “
“Fatalism, why? And I like you too.. A lot”
“Fatalism.. why.. Princess.. this is a miracle.. you and me continuing this.. like nothing ever happened.. despite so much actually taking place.. everything's changed.. the streets are dead silent.. there are no cars, no ice cream trucks.. no people.. no parties.. we're getting used to the houses having no power.. there's no Google anymore.. I don't know how to fix things.. never did.. don't even have online tutorials anymore.. and the landlines we're using run on backup power from the telephone offices.. I'm pretty sure that isn't an infinite source.. though given the load these days chances are it'll go for awhile yet.. but we have to accept the fact that it could go any day.. and it will almost certainly go eventually... “
“Like a pet cat or dog... you know they'll die before you do.. and you know how sad it will make you... but you mentally prepare yourself.. and let it go for the present.. enjoying their company”
“Yes. Every morning when I pick up the phone, I think this is it.. I won't hear a dialtone.. or I'll call and there won't be an answer from your end because your home telephone exchange backup power died.. and then.. I don't know what I'll do.. I've lived without you.. 11000 miles away from you for so long.. but this would be unfathomable.. “
“Don't think about it so much.. if it happens, it will”
“Do you realize that would mean never.. even the most impossibly optimistic view couldn't look past that”
“There's nothing we can do about it” “No. No we can't”
“I've thought about.. you know.. taking matters into my own hands.. I'm also sorry about the euphemisms.. you know me, this is how I speak, I can't change that.. anyway.. as I was saying.. I've thought about, in the eventuality that our telephone conversations stop, taking matters into my own hands.. this is America after all, a firearm shouldn't be too hard to locate.. I might have to go scouring in some of the poor neighbourhoods, but I'm certain I'll eventually find one.. or if that doesn't work out as a means to an end, I can always hunt around in the pharmaceuticals.. sleeping pills or whatever.. “
“You won't.”
“Won't what.. find a way or go through with what I've thought about?” “Won't go through with it. You're not brave enough.. “
“Sigh.. I guess not.. in some ways I am perhaps.. I remember being very excited after reading
Steppenwolf because I thought I could characterize myself exactly as a suicide.. the individual who
always keeps taking his own life as an option and ergo is less likely to actually commit the task.. he
knows that he has the ultimate choice so even in the face of seemingly unsurmountable adversity the
'suicide' will strive harder.. because at the end.. he always has a choice. I read it awhile ago but that was
about the gist of it. But now.. I'm not sure about that anymore.. these concepts of adversity, strife,
triumph all seem to have been lost with the coming and going of.. “
“Yes.. could we please talk about something less serious now? If our time together is beginning to run out, couldn't we be less morbid about it? We can think about as many things as we want after we're alone, but for now.. please”
“Okay Princess.. God I miss you.. “ “Me too”
“Miss yourself or me?”
“Lame”
“Hehe.. sorry.. couldn't resist”
“Everything's gone... everyone's gone.. cutie-pie.. it's just you and me.. and soon it won't even be that. “ “Don't call me that. it's embarrassing”
“Who'll hear?”
“ Right.. and it brings back memories of Rosie M. Banks and Bingo Little.. and my grandfather's study.. with his 70-odd Wodehouse novels.. and the first time I ever tried a book by Plum.. Eggs, Beans and Crumpets, from the school library.. back in class 5 I think.. didn't like it very much till my mother re- introduced me to him when I was a couple of years older. Very Good, Jeeves I think the book may have been. And there was no looking back. Even my father, never much of a reader, would occasionally browse through a Wodehouse. I remember him laughing aloud somewhere in the middle of Uncle Fred in the Springtime. Different times, different worlds.. “
“Let's not talk about this.. this conversation can't have a happy ending.. I try not to think about all that has changed.. and I succeed but sometimes I can't help it”
“Yes.. but it's just so hard not to talk about art or music or a book.. and prevent my mind from automatically associating it with a memory.. of a person.. or an event.. no.. let's move on for now.. or at any rate, try to.. Do you think there are others? “
“I don't know.. I haven't seen anyone.. when I've gone to the market.. or the bookstore to replenish my reading stock.. I just walk in.. the gates hang open.. I get what I want as quickly as I can and leave”
“Which one's closest to your place again? The Lord Sinha Road Starmark?”
“No, the Crossword's closer.. though I'm running out of books of interest there.. I'll probably go to the
“Yes.. could we please talk about something less serious now? If our time together is beginning to run out, couldn't we be less morbid about it? We can think about as many things as we want after we're alone, but for now.. please”
“Okay Princess.. God I miss you.. “ “Me too”
“Miss yourself or me?”
“Lame”
“Hehe.. sorry.. couldn't resist”
“Everything's gone... everyone's gone.. cutie-pie.. it's just you and me.. and soon it won't even be that. “ “Don't call me that. it's embarrassing”
“Who'll hear?”
“ Right.. and it brings back memories of Rosie M. Banks and Bingo Little.. and my grandfather's study.. with his 70-odd Wodehouse novels.. and the first time I ever tried a book by Plum.. Eggs, Beans and Crumpets, from the school library.. back in class 5 I think.. didn't like it very much till my mother re- introduced me to him when I was a couple of years older. Very Good, Jeeves I think the book may have been. And there was no looking back. Even my father, never much of a reader, would occasionally browse through a Wodehouse. I remember him laughing aloud somewhere in the middle of Uncle Fred in the Springtime. Different times, different worlds.. “
“Let's not talk about this.. this conversation can't have a happy ending.. I try not to think about all that has changed.. and I succeed but sometimes I can't help it”
“Yes.. but it's just so hard not to talk about art or music or a book.. and prevent my mind from automatically associating it with a memory.. of a person.. or an event.. no.. let's move on for now.. or at any rate, try to.. Do you think there are others? “
“I don't know.. I haven't seen anyone.. when I've gone to the market.. or the bookstore to replenish my reading stock.. I just walk in.. the gates hang open.. I get what I want as quickly as I can and leave”
“Which one's closest to your place again? The Lord Sinha Road Starmark?”
“No, the Crossword's closer.. though I'm running out of books of interest there.. I'll probably go to the
Starmark soon.. but it's a long walk.. you know.. I still feel weird when I visit the places we used to
visit together.. “
“And you've never seen Los Angeles. I wish you'd come when they still had aeroplanes.. well... technically they still exist.. just with no one to pilot them.. There was so much to do here. So many bookstores in California.. though I don't know how I'll ever get up to Berkeley again.. I need to learn to cycle.. maybe then.. “
“ We both lack life-skills, quite severely. I still can't cook, but I don't know how I would have even if I could.. with no gas and no electricity.. “
“What're you doing for food?”
“Fruit juices.. milk.. whatever food in the markets that isn't spoiled.. Pockets of the South Calcutta and some shopping places there still have power.. I don't know how.. but I'm glad“
“Yeah.. same here.. intermittent areas of light.. I'm still getting through the ton of books I'd bought before... I read by candlelight at night.. I assume you do something similar.. well.. I'm sure you have hurricane lanterns too back home... I'll go down to The Last Bookstore when I need more books.. it's the closest by far.. a forty five minute walk or so.. funny how irony seems to abound these days.. in names and places and everyday thought.. You know, if and when our phone conversations end, I might do down to LAX... and try flying.. some tanks must still have fuel.. what have I to lose?”
“ No. It'll still be better knowing you're alive on the other side of the world.. than if you crashed trying to get here.. which you're almost sure to do.. I mean.. you're the clumsiest person I have ever known.. You nearly killed yourself everytime you tried to cook.. I doubt flying is for you.. “
“Again.. what will I have left to lose?”
“That's silly.. you have books.. your gramophone.. music.. you can write... even if there won't be anyone to read them.. and there may yet be, we don't really know.. “
“True.. the sample space isn't very large if you compare it to the size of the planet.. who knows?” “Yes.. who knows.. “
“ I need to finish Kerouac's bibliography soon.. almost through with Visions of Gerard.. after this I have Desolation Angels and some of his poetry to go.. then I'll pick up, 'The Sea is My Brother'.. and I'll be done.. “
“I wish you'd given a few more of your Kerouacs to me to read before you'd gone abroad.. Crossword certainly has nothing of his beyond On The Road and Dharma Bums.. and I'm not too hopeful about the other ones either.. at least I read Doctor Sax before you left.. “
“Yeah.. that's probably my favourite work of his.. Funny how every work of art we now look at.. read.. peruse whatever.. exists in its own time.. the concept of lasting historical relevance.. of any sort of significance and one of the lasting goals of art, at least, as I saw it, was to understand man's position with respect to the past, the present, the time to come.. with respect to the universe.. now.. such analysis has completely become devoid of meaning.. and if and when we go.. assuming we are the only ones
“And you've never seen Los Angeles. I wish you'd come when they still had aeroplanes.. well... technically they still exist.. just with no one to pilot them.. There was so much to do here. So many bookstores in California.. though I don't know how I'll ever get up to Berkeley again.. I need to learn to cycle.. maybe then.. “
“ We both lack life-skills, quite severely. I still can't cook, but I don't know how I would have even if I could.. with no gas and no electricity.. “
“What're you doing for food?”
“Fruit juices.. milk.. whatever food in the markets that isn't spoiled.. Pockets of the South Calcutta and some shopping places there still have power.. I don't know how.. but I'm glad“
“Yeah.. same here.. intermittent areas of light.. I'm still getting through the ton of books I'd bought before... I read by candlelight at night.. I assume you do something similar.. well.. I'm sure you have hurricane lanterns too back home... I'll go down to The Last Bookstore when I need more books.. it's the closest by far.. a forty five minute walk or so.. funny how irony seems to abound these days.. in names and places and everyday thought.. You know, if and when our phone conversations end, I might do down to LAX... and try flying.. some tanks must still have fuel.. what have I to lose?”
“ No. It'll still be better knowing you're alive on the other side of the world.. than if you crashed trying to get here.. which you're almost sure to do.. I mean.. you're the clumsiest person I have ever known.. You nearly killed yourself everytime you tried to cook.. I doubt flying is for you.. “
“Again.. what will I have left to lose?”
“That's silly.. you have books.. your gramophone.. music.. you can write... even if there won't be anyone to read them.. and there may yet be, we don't really know.. “
“True.. the sample space isn't very large if you compare it to the size of the planet.. who knows?” “Yes.. who knows.. “
“ I need to finish Kerouac's bibliography soon.. almost through with Visions of Gerard.. after this I have Desolation Angels and some of his poetry to go.. then I'll pick up, 'The Sea is My Brother'.. and I'll be done.. “
“I wish you'd given a few more of your Kerouacs to me to read before you'd gone abroad.. Crossword certainly has nothing of his beyond On The Road and Dharma Bums.. and I'm not too hopeful about the other ones either.. at least I read Doctor Sax before you left.. “
“Yeah.. that's probably my favourite work of his.. Funny how every work of art we now look at.. read.. peruse whatever.. exists in its own time.. the concept of lasting historical relevance.. of any sort of significance and one of the lasting goals of art, at least, as I saw it, was to understand man's position with respect to the past, the present, the time to come.. with respect to the universe.. now.. such analysis has completely become devoid of meaning.. and if and when we go.. assuming we are the only ones
remaining.. Tarkovsky, Steinbeck, Rabindranath, Ray.. everybody.. will cease to exist.. “
“God you're such a pseudo-intellectual”
“Whaat.. come on.. I was just thinking aloud.. and I was being, to the best of my abilities, genuine “
“Okay okay.. and I'm used to it by now.. I saw a flock of pigeons flying overhead when I was out 'shopping' last evening.. reminded me of The Grateful Dead.. “
“Birds are winging or rain is falling from a heavy sky” “Yes.. I wish I could listen to some music.. “
“I keep telling you.. do the long hike down to Free School Street one of these days.. I'm sure they have Gramophones there.. you won't find too many LPs.. but you'll find some.. mightn't get American Beauty .. but I'm sure you'll get some Beatles for instance.. I went down to Amoeba Music again today morning.. got back just before I made the call.. picked up an armful of records... though I'm still obsessed with Tom Waits right now.. I believe I'm at the point of wearing out the grooves on Bad As Me.. I can't get those couple of lines from Pay Me out of my head.. 'And though all roads will not lead you home, my girl/All roads lead to the end of the world'.. there's no more Tom Waits.. you realize that? “
“Yes.”
“And I still desperately miss you.. everytime I hear his softer songs.. the ones like 'Long Way Home'.. I feel like crying but I don't because then I'd just feel silly.. Self-pity is the last thing I need right now.. I think of Calcutta too.. and I wish I could've been there when it all happened.. this isn't home.. but I have learned to accept it. “
“Call me tonight.. as in tonight.. my time.. I'll go have a bath now.. “ “Water's still running?”
“Yes.. makes no sense.. but then most things don't these days.. sometimes I feel like I'm in a prolonged nightmare”
“Maybe we both are.. I haven't kissed you in who knows how long.. ” “ .... I miss you.. Bye bye little baby”
“Bye Princess.. I always said you were the one for me.. heh... ” “We'll talk tonight.. if the phone lines still work”
“Yes.. I hope so.. ” “Bye”
“Whaat.. come on.. I was just thinking aloud.. and I was being, to the best of my abilities, genuine “
“Okay okay.. and I'm used to it by now.. I saw a flock of pigeons flying overhead when I was out 'shopping' last evening.. reminded me of The Grateful Dead.. “
“Birds are winging or rain is falling from a heavy sky” “Yes.. I wish I could listen to some music.. “
“I keep telling you.. do the long hike down to Free School Street one of these days.. I'm sure they have Gramophones there.. you won't find too many LPs.. but you'll find some.. mightn't get American Beauty .. but I'm sure you'll get some Beatles for instance.. I went down to Amoeba Music again today morning.. got back just before I made the call.. picked up an armful of records... though I'm still obsessed with Tom Waits right now.. I believe I'm at the point of wearing out the grooves on Bad As Me.. I can't get those couple of lines from Pay Me out of my head.. 'And though all roads will not lead you home, my girl/All roads lead to the end of the world'.. there's no more Tom Waits.. you realize that? “
“Yes.”
“And I still desperately miss you.. everytime I hear his softer songs.. the ones like 'Long Way Home'.. I feel like crying but I don't because then I'd just feel silly.. Self-pity is the last thing I need right now.. I think of Calcutta too.. and I wish I could've been there when it all happened.. this isn't home.. but I have learned to accept it. “
“Call me tonight.. as in tonight.. my time.. I'll go have a bath now.. “ “Water's still running?”
“Yes.. makes no sense.. but then most things don't these days.. sometimes I feel like I'm in a prolonged nightmare”
“Maybe we both are.. I haven't kissed you in who knows how long.. ” “ .... I miss you.. Bye bye little baby”
“Bye Princess.. I always said you were the one for me.. heh... ” “We'll talk tonight.. if the phone lines still work”
“Yes.. I hope so.. ” “Bye”
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