As long as the wheels are rolling, I'm happy.
So today, I woke at 4 and went to Poona. Not Poona really, but about 40 kms off Poona, in a little village. We had to check out some fort. It was a beautiful abandoned fort, nestled as always amidst dead grass, crumbly pebbles and crazy heat. It felt right, being there.

When I'm trekking, I'm usually very slow - but I'm also very alert. It's like my brain is doing some very serious math - which stone to step on, which path not to take, are there snakes here (FYI, there was one today, about half arm's length)...so it's good. I like it when my brain's working for a change. I was however, thoroughly unprepared for the trek - wearing of all things, a bright red patiala and floaters. It get's crazier. While coming down (shamefully holding on to my location guy because I was slipping all over the place), the two other guys up ahead start waving frantically at us. "Laal rang! Laal rang!" they exclaim. We take a closer look, and there are a horde of bulls standing right at the base of the hill, staring at my red patiala'd (and also red bandana'd) existence. I slip off my bandana, but what to do about the pjs man? So yeah, we take a rockier route and avoid being tragically impaled by the bull gang and finally reach our scorching hot Innova. It was kind of fun :)

On our way back, we chanced upon another abandoned fort, which was not on a hill or anything, but in the middle of a bustling village, it's old grey walls on the outside bearing a garish little Lux Cozy ad. From the outside it looked like a smaller neglected cousin of Shanivar Wada. Inside, there were broken walls and berry trees and tumbleweed and overgrown shrubs - and a house. The most gorgeous house ever. Broken, dilapidated, vandalized, but utterly beautiful - lit by sudden shafts of sunlight. The empty rooms bore a tragic yet resilient look - the same kind of quality that would attract a man to a woman, or a woman to a man. Kind of sad-hot. I fell in love.

But soon enough, we were heading back to Bombay. Needless to say, the wheels stopped rolling.

Something freaky happened as well. The old rusty radar suddenly came to life. Long distance heartache? Nope. Not anymore. Just a faint little beep in the distance.

Apple Pie

When something goes away, all that you can hold on to are the sentiments. The tastes and smells which you know will never come back. The feeling of once belonging, the once excitement, the once let's go. My comfort zone from first and second sem. My happy place to go to whenever. My old, quirky little hippie with tattooed peace signs and Buddha heads. You have totally broken my heart by going away.
Can you ever get your groove back, German Bakery?

On the Road - again.

So I'm officially a post graduate, beer bottle breaker, chronic train traveller and violent insect killer now.

We lived in a small hotel room in Pune, where all these boys came, drank and left beer bottles in the verandah and then I accidentally dropped one, which made the hotel owner think we were a bunch of rowdies. We were, but not that much also. Pune is dusty, indifferent and kind of depressing.I still like FTII though, much much more than my own college.

I was supposed to go back to my new crispy city after our sham convocation, but then Bombay called me again. Bombay has been totally fucking with my head. It just can't decide whether to like me or not. I honestly do not care. I just want to go back home and watch How I Met Your Mother. But while I was here, I spoke to some people, made epic journeys from Harbour Lines to Western Lines, ate Apple Chicken once again and bought a hat from Colaba.

I have a slight cold now, from all the pollution and travel and too much smoking. I always end up smoking way too much in Pune, and I don't like it.

Among other things, my old boss bitched about me, I wrote an emotional letter to a professor and I have a crush on this guy on my FB list, when I really, really shouldn't. I should sleep now. I'm still in Bombay and am wearing S's clothes. Goodnight.