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163: It’s Time

13 Jun

S, A, and I left for the airport together, and sat to have our respective bevvys together while waiting for our flights. I watched his taxi to the runway and take-off, wondering just how big my baby brother had become. Soon it’d be our turn to leave.


Ma told me to have button idlis at the airport, so I did…and now I’m too full. Of everything that home can fill a child with. Including the heartbreak of leaving it. Sigh.

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163: Penultimate

12 Jun

My mind has reached a place of acceptance that we’re leaving tomorrow, that my stay in Bangalore has come to its end, and that it’s time to pack and go. S was supposed to leave the morning after A arrived, but that got pushed to today. We somehow managed to convince him to get his tickets along with us so we could all leave together – ma says she’d prefer that than the slow plucking away of her children from her nest. A was clear that he wasn’t interested in going out anywhere thanks to his cricket match that was on. So we spent Sunday chilling at home, watching tv, catching naps in between, and just being lazy. I didn’t watch much of the match and immersed myself in my book instead. I am currently reading “The Princess Remembers” – Memoirs by Maharani Gayatri Devi. I’ve loved reading it so far and hope to complete it as soon as possible.

We aren’t doing much today except gathering our things, packing, and just being lazy. Ma has gone to work and we plan to catch a late lunch of burgers, pasta, and steaks a little later. There’s not much I can comprehend from my current state of mind. Time just flies.

162: Sundaze

11 Jun

Yesterday was a packed day that ended much later than I’d planned. From late lunch drinks and snacks with friends to drinks and dinner with family, we spent most of our day out. If that wasn’t enough, we carried the party on at A’s cousin’s place till almost 4am – something I’ve seldom ever done. I loved it, to be honest.

A lot of my growing up years have been spent following a routine, being the “nice” girl who comes back home in time, who follows rules. Staying out till late is my brother’s forte and one I never really understood. I guess it primarily depends on the company you keep – mine always met during the day and wrapped up latest by dinner. There are only a handful of times I remember being out till late with friends, and that was either during a holiday or over a stay over.

Having said that, sitting outside in bhaiyya’s balcony; chatting, laughing, sharing stories, convincing A that Bangalore is a good place to live in, and generally just watching sheets of clouds roll by while gentle music played as a cool wind blew was an apt after-party. It’s one I’m totally game for if an encore was to happen. Age does mellow us down; the urgency to prove a point on the social front blunts itself till it fades away. No more do you find yourself in the company of people inebriated beyond their capacity with the sfx of nausea taking over.

As dawn began to unveil herself, we returned home and fell into a satisfying sleep. :)

161: Time Flies

10 Jun

A came down to Bangalore last night. As has been the trend so far, his arrival signals two things to me – newfound experiences from sharing my maternal home with him, and the culmination of my stay in Bangalore. He usually arrives at the end of my trip, spends a couple of days here, and then we leave together.

Therefore this is my last weekend in Bangalore for the summer. When I look back, it’s been yet another crazy visit filled with everything that speaks of home. I will introspect and write about it a little later, but for now all I can say is that home will always be home.

We’ve got a series of plans lined up, and it’s something I would like to focus on instead. :)

160: Making Memories

9 Jun

Mom and I did the unthinkable today; something we haven’t ever done before, I reckon.


We took a walk in Cubbon Park while it rained,

and then slurped on some tea at The Press Club wile it poured.

Precious.

157: It’s A Feeling

6 Jun

…that of ordering sundaes from Corner House, and settling back into our respective couches to catch up on episodes of The Crown, which btw, we’re completely hooked on to.

From what I gauge, and from what is in fact the way of the world, all that glitters isn’t gold, and the grass always somehow looks greener on the other side.

Having said that, I will also maintain that I’ve always wanted to live like royalty, even if it was for just a day. Okay two. :P

156: Another Holiday Monday

5 Jun


What if I become broke? But oh my darling, what if you become rich?

I couldn’t help adapt the popular quote to this bookshop that I first visited as a child. It was a new experience because this was a bookshop of a different kind; one where they sold old books that smelt the best and even took back books you’d finished reading. 

It was just normal instinct to walk into a bookstore enroute the restaurant my friend A and I were heading to, to stuff our face with Mangalorean ghee roast crab. 

Our afternoon was delectable, to say the least. 

155: Sundays Of A Different Kind

4 Jun

This was spent sitting on a wooden seat at St. Patrick’s Church during Sunday mass, taking in Sunday mornings from a different perspective. 


It was followed by this debauchery with R, over conversations, laughter, reminiscing, and joy. 


Apt for a Bangalore Sunday morning after a long time. :)

Now on to the match!

154: Snapshots So Far

3 Jun

Some experiences are best described without words. 

Here are some of mine so far, and I’m letting these pictures do all the talking. 

Banana chips and post-dinner conversations


Saris, dosas, window shopping in Commercial Street.

Friday afternoons with family and these eyes

Impromptu visits, conversations, and homemade fish fry and prawn curry meals

Sunny, windy, shade-laden walks under these gentle giants

Andhra meals, laughter, and bubbly fresh lime sodas

Relaxing with baking

153: The Thrill In The Uexpected

2 Jun

Ever since I got here, I’ve experienced a series of unexpected joys. As I was very matter-of-factly walking towards the bus shuttle after exiting the airport, I chanced upon the first bus in line, which was relatively empty, that I decided to get home by. On approaching the bus, there she was sitting right in the front seat in direct sight – my first ever psychology teacher from back in the day. One really finds it difficult to sum up all the feelings that bubble and gurgle within you…a fine blend of shock, excitement, confusion, joy, thrill, all woven into a fabric of beautiful memories put together. We couldn’t believe our chance meeting – on a bus out of so many buses, at an airport of all places; and after what’s soon going to be 15 years. Of course this count was meant to highlight just how long it’s been, except it also reminds me just how long ago I finished my 10th board exams. It goes without saying that we spent the rest of the bus ride seated next to each other, sharing titbits from our life and experiences, and how the journey has been so far. To say that the ride was too short would fall short of how I felt; where’s that traffic jam when you really need it?!

In-keeping with this, and as if I hadn’t walked back in time enough, I passed my school during functional school hours yesterday for the first time since I’d left it. As I drove past it, I couldn’t resist the urge to get off the car and walk right in, to just perhaps see if I could meet the teachers I’d once spent every single day of my life with. And I did. I still cannot describe the feeling; perhaps the connections run so deep that they’ve remained embedded somewhere within me in a place that’s hard to access. Time really isn’t enough when you’re walking down memory lane. Sometimes words aren’t, either.

It’s a strange feeling, this. There’s always been an indefinable friction within me to go back to where I came from. Notwithstanding the trying times that they were, and not discounting the amazing things that were also happening back then, it really isn’t a road I like to walk down. Things change, people change, everything changes. Apart from this insecurity of not being remembered or being acknowledged like you perhaps once were, it’s this strange tug of war stepping back in time versus watching your memories from the safety of disconnected distance. As I walked away from these two episodes, it only reminded me that as the years pile up, so do our own thoughts and perceptions of the whats and hows. To say I didn’t take away so much from these experiences and in turn give so much to these experiences as well, would negate the actual power of reminiscence, time, and life itself.