(Formerly) Informal

I am informal.

I can hold hands on the road. You can find me taking a forcible seat on the roadside just to laugh out the joke/khorak/khilli that I just heard and can’t take while simply standing. I can cuddle up in a resto. I can even sit on the table joking and fooling around. I eat with my hands unless I don’t feel the need to use a fork/spoon or unless the setting/situation demands me to. I can enjoy and devour my food forgetting ‘etiquette’. I can crack a joke and laugh out loud amidst loved ones. I sometimes eat with my mouth not totally closed. I am not that high collared high handed businessman in a suit or that high profile executive in a professional dinner. I like to forget the rest of the world when I am with close ones. I actually love to, not just like to. More often than not you’d hear the sound of a chicken bone crack than the tinkling of the cutlery on the glass plates. Not that I don’t remember the place and the location and the situation that I’ll make a complete fool out of myself with my informality. But whenever I can I never let go an opportunity.

I am informal. Can’t say I will be.