10 00pm
It's cold. Im soggy and trolleying back home. The oh-so-pleasant sound of the auto-rickshaw's backside complements the high pitch ringing in my ears.
5 00 pm
' It'll rain again man! Come ra, we'll take umbrella.'
'Mad eh?! It wont rain come.'
'Anyway you like to get wet no, gay.'
6 00 pm
'Come, we'll walk ra. Only 2 minutes.'
6 30 pm
'Only ten minutes more.'
AAAAHH!!!
A "2-minute walk" afterward, having braved the weather and terrain through godonlyknowswhere-land, the air told us we were finally there. ( Kind of like the Pandavas and dog story, the elements having depleted our numbers to 4, from the original 11.)
The extremely 'tight' security insisted I kept my soldering iron outside. (Unbelievable, I say!)
Anyway, when I was finally inside, iron and all, I was greeted by a voice that sounded like its owner had caught gangrene and lost hope. The poilcemen (stationed at "strategic" locations) would have probably done him (and the rest of us) a favour putting him down.
The stage was inhabted mostly by a bunch of ape-like creatures, clearly at the tribal stage of their evolution. Their leader,presumably, seemed particularly adept at making jungle noises and movements, sometimes provoking a section of the crowd to mimic.
Bushmen Frenzy!
SHOOT THEM ALL!!
More rain and more tribes prompty led us to the exit.
' It sucked! But tell everyone it was damn good, okay!
Hihikhihikhihikhihi!!! '
' Yea man...Hehehehe... otherwise rape only ra...'
'Hihikhihikhihikhihi!!! But it was fun man.'
10 00 pm
It's cold. Im soggy and trolleying back home. The oh-so-pleasant sound of the auto-rickshaw's backside complements the high pitch ringing in my ears.
'I wonder how long it will be before my extremities start falling off.'
