“Dilli jaane ke liye passport hona maangta hai kya?” the autorickshaw guy asked me this evening. I was returning from the airport, having seen off my friend who had come visiting over the weekend.
It was the first time I had a non-family-member guest coming over to stay, and things proceeded quite well. Which is fabulous, since I am not much of a hostess. (You who are nodding your head vertically…stop!) She is not an amiable guest either, so that complicates things.
Being in the same situation as someone often deludes me into believing that I am quite similar to them. Just a few months in different worlds have convinced me that nothing could be further from the truth. My friend and I are not two weird jokers from the same circus. We definitely belong to different troupes. We want the same things out of life, but for different reasons.
I even managed a trip to Mumbai, which behaved quite nicely weather-wise and stink-wise. I think I might just make friends with it.
Meanwhile, my passport to Delhi is ready. Am off this week for a ten-day break. I’ll need a window seat on the plane. I’m going to spend the two hours looking out of the window, through the clouds, at the ground. I am sure my home is somewhere on the way between Pune and Delhi. It is neither here, nor there.
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