Things I am grateful for:
1. Papa and brother are safe.
2. Rained and there's new bright purple flower bursting out of a bush in the garden. I had never seen it before. All the other leaves are fresh and shiny green like they belong in an Ayurvedic spa. This purple gem looks like foliage dressed for the Cannes red carpet.
3. The cook had made gobhi Manchurian. So yummy it was!
4. Spoke about dreams and ghost guides and Kashi and stuff with J for nearly two hours. She shared a picture of Yogi Adityanath with a monkey on his lap. Yogi is signing some papers and the monkey looks on in great interest. It's a funny picture.
5. Ate a sandwich with toasted bread buttered and drenched with honey and topped with sliced bananas. My very favorite kind of sandwich.
6. Listened to the song, 'Jaisi Teri marzi' from Manmarziyan. I love that song like all the others from the film.
7. Found my leather-sheen tights.
8. A BIG relief was finishing off a document that I got decent review for.
9. Had an oil massage.
10. One of my cooks has interesting dreams and she really takes her time narrating them. So when she has to tell me one of her dreams, she first gets me tea or coffee, something to eat, and then settles in to narrate in a three act structure. I thought I should note all of them down and pitch to Netflix. I think she may be persuaded to dream in series.
I was just thinking...one reason I feel bad about heading back to Bangalore is because no one will come to receive me there. I would like a life where I am always received with enthusiasm wherever I reach. (A joyous kind of enthusiasm, that is. I mean I don't want the police.). I wish someone came to the Bangalore airport to pick me up. With flowers. I wonder why people don't bring flowers for each other anymore. I will bring them for me, I think. I love small, thoughtfully created bouquets with flowers of different colours. Or interesting coloured roses. Or anything pink. Or lilies. And wrapped in newspaper or that gunny-bag/ sack cloth.
I'm feeling strangely sad that no one will be there to meet me at the Bangalore airport. It would be nice to meet someone. Late night I will reach. We could have coffee or tea and almond croissant at this really cute little bakery or diner just outside the airport. Then get home.
If I said this to my brother, he would tell me to take the train. (I really don't see the point of a younger sibling.)
1. Papa and brother are safe.
2. Rained and there's new bright purple flower bursting out of a bush in the garden. I had never seen it before. All the other leaves are fresh and shiny green like they belong in an Ayurvedic spa. This purple gem looks like foliage dressed for the Cannes red carpet.
3. The cook had made gobhi Manchurian. So yummy it was!
4. Spoke about dreams and ghost guides and Kashi and stuff with J for nearly two hours. She shared a picture of Yogi Adityanath with a monkey on his lap. Yogi is signing some papers and the monkey looks on in great interest. It's a funny picture.
5. Ate a sandwich with toasted bread buttered and drenched with honey and topped with sliced bananas. My very favorite kind of sandwich.
6. Listened to the song, 'Jaisi Teri marzi' from Manmarziyan. I love that song like all the others from the film.
7. Found my leather-sheen tights.
8. A BIG relief was finishing off a document that I got decent review for.
9. Had an oil massage.
10. One of my cooks has interesting dreams and she really takes her time narrating them. So when she has to tell me one of her dreams, she first gets me tea or coffee, something to eat, and then settles in to narrate in a three act structure. I thought I should note all of them down and pitch to Netflix. I think she may be persuaded to dream in series.
I was just thinking...one reason I feel bad about heading back to Bangalore is because no one will come to receive me there. I would like a life where I am always received with enthusiasm wherever I reach. (A joyous kind of enthusiasm, that is. I mean I don't want the police.). I wish someone came to the Bangalore airport to pick me up. With flowers. I wonder why people don't bring flowers for each other anymore. I will bring them for me, I think. I love small, thoughtfully created bouquets with flowers of different colours. Or interesting coloured roses. Or anything pink. Or lilies. And wrapped in newspaper or that gunny-bag/ sack cloth.
I'm feeling strangely sad that no one will be there to meet me at the Bangalore airport. It would be nice to meet someone. Late night I will reach. We could have coffee or tea and almond croissant at this really cute little bakery or diner just outside the airport. Then get home.
If I said this to my brother, he would tell me to take the train. (I really don't see the point of a younger sibling.)
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