Strange feeling

-
It was a rather good day today. I woke up late with my head stuffed with unfinished business. I also felt that I should just chuck the idea of working for the rest of the year and streamline my thoughts. It's feeling too crowded up there. In Mumbai, regular life sort of takes up all the time and energy so it distracts me from the very important business of 'getting down to it' and thinking things through. In Delhi, even busy moments seem quiet. Even hours that should whiz by when I'm with friends or roaming about here and there - even those hours feel slow. Delhi really has started feeling like heaven. Like I died and came up here. And maybe my soul is not evolved enough to take this, so I've started pining for my sweet, bizarre hell, Mumbai. Maybe my soul needs to grow some more and Mumbai will stretch it out nice and long.

Due to some recent developments, I need to look for a place to stay. My friend in Mira Road has very kindly offered to share her flat with me until June. (After that, I think she plans to move in with a Dracula. I do think Twilight fans can be batty that way.) Post June, though, I need options. The freelancing is going well and it can go a whole lot better. However, I need a very strong base for that. I need to not feel uprooted or hunted or in some sort of unending transition. That's why I need a place. My budget is currently 6,000 and that too is stretching it. So, searching for a spot in Mumbai will need to begin early.

June is when the rains descend and it would be nice to have a beautiful place by then. Of course, I could get a really plush assignment and then I'll stay in a spot overlooking the Mahalakshmi Race Course.

Hunting for a home, a flatmate, figuring out what to do, where to go, etc. are actually pressing thoughts. I ought to invest a lot more time and energy into that. However, today I just feel empty. I was at the Mocha in Select City Walk today and ordered for some apple and cinnamon tea. It came in a cute little black cup and kettle. That cup was wee. It looked like it belonged to a pixie or an elf. And the seating in the Mocha is such that I actually imagined sitting ensconced in some cubby hole in a magical tree that would fly away to the moon.

With the last pour of that fragrant, ruby tea, I felt drained. I felt like everything is out of me now. I felt so empty.

So I paid up, had a bizarre conversation with a young lad who wanted to know of places to eat ("You look like a foodie!", he said.), and went to meet family for dinner.

I wish I had kept December free for some really quiet time. I want to clear my head, pick one thought at a time, think things through, and set it aside forever. I want to plan for June properly; not in the haphazard, spontaneous wildness I hop from one circumstance to another.

In the mind, I really want to take it slow. Hope it happens soon.


Comments

Sam said…
Delhi is at its best right now.. It is cold, misty and the flowers look more vibrant. Even traffic seems bearable..
Hope this provides you with you peace you seek.
1:45 PM
Anonymous said…
the twins are turning 1 in june. so there, your plans are sorted :)
anumita
3:19 PM
Unknown said…
you're freelancing; so why get stuck in mum?? come over. come to hyd; you don't even need to pay.. :P ..maybe life angraayee legi, kuchh le ke, kuchh aur degi.. :)
3:14 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Check (the) mate

-
My cousin, who was born sixteen hours before me, got married recently. I am expected to follow her footsteps soon. Thankfully, I have been granted more than sixteen hours to do that. My father’s health has taken a turn for the worse. My mother is completely exhausted. Rationally, points 1, 2, and 3 would be distinct from each other. But in my family there is no such thing as ‘rationally’. Therefore all these points are inter-related. Strangely, here, we believe my marriage to be an antidote to mortality and fatigue. I happened to be sitting in my parents’ room while Ma looked through Papa’s blood reports. They didn’t look good. Ma was worried and Papa didn’t help matters much. He kept talking about Sourav Ganguly and why he deserved better. Ma got further agitated and after flinging the reports somewhere inconvenient to retrieve (I should know), she snapped, “So what? There are many like him.” Papa doesn’t believe that and would have no one in his family believe that either. He went to
Read more

Not the same, all the same - Rang de Basanti, being a Hindu, uniform civil code, and Hostage – in that unrelated sequence

-
I watched ‘Rang de basanti’. That, however, is not the point. Everyone now wants to go to Delhi and cruise around in jeeps at night. And that too is not the point. I need to say something. That, really, is the point. ‘Rang de…’ is a good movie but frankly, I’ve seen better. I’ve seen ‘Yuva’. It is creditable, though, that the movie could say what it did without using the ‘sage on the stage’ (as we say in Instructional Design) approach. The movie does have a couple of ideas that I have been besotted with for a long time now. One is the life of a story. There is the germ of an idea about men who go to their deaths cheerfully. There is fascination about what could inspire such courage in ordinary people. That story lays inside a diary for a long time. How long? Long enough for history to play itself out and begin the process of repeating itself. A nation goes the ‘Animal Farm’ way – humans out, pigs in. The story lays untouched – fermenting in latent vigor. Then someone discovers it. She
Read more

Save the Indian (male) child

-
This isn't exactly a feminist tirade, but this is written by a woman, and it is written in annoyance. You raise your girls to be sweet, strong, and independent. (Wise parents teach their children to listen to opinions and discard or heed accordingly. The other ones just teach their kids to bullshit everything that everyone says. Still others bring up girls to be on guard and forget that spine so that everyone thinks well of them. I am not sure which is worse, but I detest people shoving their opinions down other people's throats in a show of liberation, so I'll lean towards the former. But only slightly.) As the gender construct of being a 'female' is pushed even further, you teach your daughter complicated activities – driving, perhaps, sending them off away from home, wearing a sari (those freaking pleats!), cooking and de-veining prawns for added advantage. At the end of that, you have a person who genuinely dislikes blending into anything, doesn't like bei
Read more