Since last morning, I’m feeling like Dementors have sucked my soul out of me. It is the joint result of the adorable Delhi heat and my overconfident forays into the human world before my jaundice is completely cured. I am feeling like pulp that needs to be out in the fridge right away. Power cuts don’t help. And I can’t even bear to think that I am cribbing when people are out on the road working in this heat. Please God: Showers of blessings we need.
At the library yesterday, the woman sitting opposite me was reading a guide to icing cakes for children’s parties, the art of lace-making, a tome on interior design, and a fashion magazine. She seemed to be a well-groomed young lass. The only reason someone would be reading this combo that I can think of is “the accelerated domestication project” that strikes many people at the “marriageable age”. When she left, the man on the next table pulled up the cake icing book and was leafing through it. Nice! I am sure he was going to head straight home and make red-yellow cakes for his kids. And the chap on the other side was actually reading a book titled “New Feminism”. Whoa! That was a first. His cellphone kept buzzing and distracting him from his masochistic pursuits. Now you are thinking that I was obviously too busy looking around to peer into my own book, and that I am a superbitch for criticizing everyone. Of course you are right.
I hate Chennai for sucking in people like a vortex. I could throw things at that steaming hot idli cooker of a city right now except it is too far and my throwing arm is not up to it yet.
Ok. I am done ranting. Back to work.