Between Appearances...

Mr. Y: How is it coming?
Mr. X: Hahaha, you took the accent bro 

Mr. Y: Well, how are you doing? Perfect?
Mr. X: Yeah, perfectly kept the imperfect hopes. The box of rain is suffering from claustrophobia.

Mr. Y: Its too much snowing these days, I see.
Mr. X: Yeah, but snow fall does not make ripple on still water my friend.

Mr. Y: You talk as you have faced the eternity already.
Mr. X: The eternity has approached me already; the roads are dusted with nostalgia.
Mr. Y: And, what do you feel then?
Mr. X: As Tarkovsky mentioned, nostalgia is a disease, an illness that drains away the strength of the soul, the capacity to work, the pleasure to living.

Mr. Y: It’s nothing but personal, what’s your wish right now?
Mr. X: Ami bari jabo..kolkatai…will walk mindlessly in the decaying streets of north Calcutta in dawn, phuchka, the drained face of a kite, the drowning face of durga thakur in bagbazar ghat..
Mr. Y: So you wanna wish a good world when are you dying! Huh.

Mr. Y: Any new dream besides imagine?
Mr. X: Sailing with a dolphin (hand in hand), however I don’t know how to swim. But does sailing need that?

Mr. Y: Your world, your writings are not kickin' my grays any more. You are so stranded.
Mr. X: Sometimes, it is better that way. Moving from coast to coast without moonlight is pain. And it is more pain after being deceived under a daily sun.
Mr. X: Hey but why you are always off, why you don’t spend a much time with me? Why are you running away as a nomad?

Mr. Y: (quickly changing the subject into the perennial one) What are you listening now?
Mr. X: Tongue and Groove, Steve Kimock. You?

Mr. Y: Ditto. Spirituality….