I swear my work is self-mutating. It’s impossible that I’m working close to 12-14 hours every day on something, and it doesn’t seem to end. I get really impatient when I’m on a project for very long. It’s like having something stuck in your teeth for months.
Last night, I reached home at midnight. I ate a bowl of daal and vegetables. I sat and chatted with my cousin who was telling me of a flat in Bandra available for six thousand rupees rent per month. It’s got a terrace. And sea-view. ‘ Is that possible?’, I asked myself. Anything’s possible, I told myself.
I really want to take a quiet four hours off. Four hours of not having a gnawing sense of urgency in the pit of my stomach. I’d gone to town this Sunday, and it was so glorious! Those areas – Kalbadevi, the book-sellers at V.T., walking to Gateway, getting drenched in silver, cold rain, and watching ships docked in mist…these scenes, those smells – they just fill me up. But Monday happened, and that sheath of peace just got lifted, crumpled, and thrown under the bed.
Even if I work this Saturday, I’ll definitely get some kind of a spa treatment. I think this is how I’ll begin my Saturday…take a long, slow walk along Carter Road. Preferably, watch the sunrise. Then go to Joggers and sit there for a bit. From there, I’ll walk to ‘Just Around the Corner’ and have a large, steaming cup of hot coffee and some warm waffles with syrup and honey. I’ll rest it up good and proper, leisurely reading ‘Burnt Toast’ by Teri Hatcher. (It’s a very nice read, by the way.)
I’ll return home and have someone come by and give me a pedicure – that warm, soapy water relaxing my feet, the massage with scented creams – all making my feet nice and supple.
Then I’ll shampoo my hair with some frightfully expensive shampoo my mum’s bought me (it comes in an ivory bottle, for god’s sakes), wear a chic white, strappy dress I’d bought from Peddar Road, my vertiginous Mango shoes, and go out to lunch. I think I’ll go to Olive. Sip some iced-tea, have a warm salad with a creamy, herb-flavored dressing, finish off with a slice of pie.
Then I’ll come home, change into my favourite pair of soft, stretchy denims, a peacock-blue and gold cotton kurti, flats, and head off to work.
Looks like Saturday, I have a date…with a touch a class.
Last night, I reached home at midnight. I ate a bowl of daal and vegetables. I sat and chatted with my cousin who was telling me of a flat in Bandra available for six thousand rupees rent per month. It’s got a terrace. And sea-view. ‘ Is that possible?’, I asked myself. Anything’s possible, I told myself.
I really want to take a quiet four hours off. Four hours of not having a gnawing sense of urgency in the pit of my stomach. I’d gone to town this Sunday, and it was so glorious! Those areas – Kalbadevi, the book-sellers at V.T., walking to Gateway, getting drenched in silver, cold rain, and watching ships docked in mist…these scenes, those smells – they just fill me up. But Monday happened, and that sheath of peace just got lifted, crumpled, and thrown under the bed.
Even if I work this Saturday, I’ll definitely get some kind of a spa treatment. I think this is how I’ll begin my Saturday…take a long, slow walk along Carter Road. Preferably, watch the sunrise. Then go to Joggers and sit there for a bit. From there, I’ll walk to ‘Just Around the Corner’ and have a large, steaming cup of hot coffee and some warm waffles with syrup and honey. I’ll rest it up good and proper, leisurely reading ‘Burnt Toast’ by Teri Hatcher. (It’s a very nice read, by the way.)
I’ll return home and have someone come by and give me a pedicure – that warm, soapy water relaxing my feet, the massage with scented creams – all making my feet nice and supple.
Then I’ll shampoo my hair with some frightfully expensive shampoo my mum’s bought me (it comes in an ivory bottle, for god’s sakes), wear a chic white, strappy dress I’d bought from Peddar Road, my vertiginous Mango shoes, and go out to lunch. I think I’ll go to Olive. Sip some iced-tea, have a warm salad with a creamy, herb-flavored dressing, finish off with a slice of pie.
Then I’ll come home, change into my favourite pair of soft, stretchy denims, a peacock-blue and gold cotton kurti, flats, and head off to work.
Looks like Saturday, I have a date…with a touch a class.
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