I haven't blogged in ever so long even though lines have been coming
to me in auto rides and most of my blog posts are actually never
posted, but imagined passionately, with the new enthu cutlet monsoon
blowing its nose on my clothes.It has been such an hectic month, and
now I am homeless soon in like three days with no confirmed place to
move into. As my friends say though, my life is always up in the air
and somehow I do , last minute, manage to scramble it all in one place
and grow root tips.Although, I feel like there are all these balls in
the air and if I miss one catch, it's all going to be in shambles ,
like this complicated dance sequence with lots of dancers. And the
need to be alert is so stressful.Better to eat Sambar Rice and lounge
in Banashankari.(I hope you heard my accent there.)
Anyway, as always, house hunting is a moral challenge in Delhi. More
about that later. Initially the plan was to live with pahadi phool and
stem. So we went to this super white fresh apartment, opposite the
lovely Hauz Khas monument and amidst a leaking, stinking slum.
Living in Hauz Khas Village was my aim actually but then, politics, or
not, I have to say living in that slum just wasn't given my psychotic
(and new )OCD. The apartment was modern , airy, had a good energy
except that there was a slaughter house behind. Waking up to the sound
of dying goats is not every vegetarian's dream. The owners tried
convincing me that the slums will be gone in while. That made my heart
flinch but also consider at the same time how long it will take.
Later at home, C , told me that it is because I am the market and the
world moves as the market wants.
1 comment:
Oh my sour saambar, I feel your pain of uncertainty.
Believe me, the pahaadi phool is not used to being on the road too. I don't need a pretentious pot to bear me but still, some fertile soil for my roots to grasp would be good.
Post a Comment