I set the streets ablaze

Two driving classes made of "your side", "my side", "left", "right", "u-turn", with me on the steering wheel trying to use-not-my-head and follow commands and I am already dreaming of Fast and Furious.................And when I finally do that (DRIVE ON MY OWN), I hope I do not set the street ablaze - literally. Like crash into cars and trucks, one after another. Augh, that might actually KILL ME you know.....................If not that, I will surely be jailed for "Amateur driving lead to 5 deaths"...................I will tata blogs (jails can't have internet, at least not in Hyderabad. Right?), may be take to the pen (assuming they would not allow my laptop/even if they would, I'd rather not take it/my in-mates are not MBAs and Medicos you know, but sheer thieves and killers) and write a novel.... ........How about "Counting stars from a cleft in the prison". Long names. e.g. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, are so in....................What the hell, if there is a cleft, I might as well drill it quietly every night and cloak it with a Shahrukh Poster (yes, I just plagiarised a Hollywood plot)...............Heck, after all my Bollywood-binging, with neck craned and lips parted, Shahrukh is the best I could think of? I suddenly realize I cannot readily think of any Favourite hero/heroines. Ok, I like a bunch of them, but none so much to stick up his/her headed-torso on my wall. That would be so gay....................And look who is saying this. Our pigeon-coop of a hostel room (during those 10+2 days) had all of Shahrukhs, Salmans and Caprio posters and with what not written on them. And they were just eye-candy, at least for me and Ashmita (my roomie), unlike Bandana (it went "Bandana Talukdar, Sorupeta" every time we passed the boys hostels, she was our batch's hottie) who was pretty possessive about her Sachin poster. One day when she was snoozing (so we thought), we got Geetali (another mate) walk up to the poster and give Sachin a full-on Lipishtic kiss. That was it - Bandana suddenly sprang out of bed, up went her leg right at Geetali's feeble frame and as she turned around for us we ran for our life. That night we pledged never to kiss any body's lover, boy friend, husband, poster, photograph, whatever. FYI, I still haven't...................The first time I ever kissed, I was imagining I am looking at myself from above, as if I was the director, sitting up on that crane thing and shooting myself with a camera that went round our heads.........This is something I do very often - imagine I walk out of me and look at myself. Like I did when I was getting married. Amongst the incessant chanting, the fire, the cameras, the relatives, I quietly went out of me and was looking at the entire spectacle from a vantage point. Draped in all that silk and jewellery and in the October heat, I was practically melting down. I did not have much to do then nod and mumble whatever Greek or Japanese the Pundit asked me to repeat. And then I stood up, walked out and ran, throwing away all that baggage on me piece after piece till I was in a bikini and dived for the sea..............That reminds me, I am to learn swimming soon (driving, swimming - I will soon be a super-woman). And since I will have Preethi for company, there's a hope that I will not feign losing interest and escape mid-way.........................Like I did for my Salsa and painting classes. But quitting painting had deeper reasons. I was in Class VIII and had newly learnt to bi-cycle. I cracked everything but the brakes. I would hit men (one on a cycle, other an egg-wala), animals (a pig amongst others), walls, lamp posts, impromtu - just fucking forget the brakes. On top of that there was this gang of trouble-makers who would follow me to my house and once I even fell down trying to speed up. Gosh, what a sissy I was. One slap and those rascals would have dissappeared. But those rides seeded a fear for the road. Hitting something, injuring somebody came so naturally to me then...........................Umm what was I talking about?