Making the best of bangalore’s traffic jams.
Felt torn at this moment as it came screeching to a halt at the bus stop nearby.
Half of me wanted to be motorbiking in the rain.
The size-able rest wanted wanted nothing but the book-in-hand , the cup of tea and the condiments at hand. It was like those in management circles say, win-win.
I want to sink into a plush couch with a promise of the long summer vacations that the Indian summer bestows on school children; a tumbler of lime juice in hand, the sweet drum roll of 21st century Fox heralding a riveting movie and the sheer joy of inventing cricket strategies for the evening game in the gully.
Getting maps from the stationery store is a frequent exercise among students in Delhi. At least, it was when I was kid.
My favorite was a map which had the Arabian Sea and the Bay of Bengal in cool blue, land boundaries in shades of grey and this particular one had a smooth finish. No print bloopers for me.In fact, I just saw a scrappy , cheaper version a few minutes back.
I long to find that haughty, police-inspector’s-hat, we called the state of Jammu & Kashmir, high in the air. Our country is probably to get its boundaries altered without its permission, without being overthrown. All while I was getting ready for a lifetime of steady monthly income.