Home after a long while. Disorienting house, new to my parents, newer still to me. I don't know where the light switches are and I have not gotten used the artifice of suburban silence. My new flat in Delhi would have been quiet except for a horde of mad birds all of whom seem to live on my balcony.

I am not on holiday which makes it worse. I am supposed to be working. I have decided to make up a persona of dilettante correspondent and deal with everything at a slow pace. Tomorrow, a movie that I need to review. Today I dream of making churros and calas. Of course it is 2 am and I should sleep. Instead there this blessed slowness, the limbo in which, a messy house is across the country, so is urgent love, so are unwritten books, undone chores, unreplied mails. But right now there is this blessed impossibility of doing anything.


the blessed impossibility of doing anything...
how how true!
:) :)

February 28, 2010 at 10:08 PM  

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