Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Meanwhile in Bombay...

It's been okay here. So far so good I guess. Travelling is a bitch though. And hence I was taking cabs to college these past couple of days. I think that's one of the reasons no one in my class accepted me with open arm- because I was that girl from Delhi who cabbed it between Dadar and CST everyday because she was too cool for a local. But I am too cool for it! I don't see how having men sweating all over you is exciting. Well, it is... but not in the Bombay Local way. However, I take the trains now. I pick up new boys every night who drop me back home. True Story.
Not random boys. Boys staying close to my house as to walk me back and get me out of the traumas of the feeling of being touched by sweating men. But speaking of men sweating all over you, Bombay is winning in the 'action' department. I would  like to believe it's because of my drop dead gorgeous looks, but it could have a little to do with how frustrating it is to live here for everyone. Not sexually frustrating; survival-frustrating. 

I'm cooking, cleaning, washing, the works! None of that I mind. My flatmates are really the nicest people. I have people in Bombay that I love. I have made some cool friends too who seem to be fond of me. None in my class though. I'm meeting so many people each day- old and new. But it gets lonely here. And no amount of smoking on my beautiful beautiful terrace (very la 'Wake Up Sid') makes it any better. I miss my mom. Home is where mom is, I feel. And my people. I feel shy reading emails from the girl I love. I get conceited when lovers from Delhi claim they miss me, almost perfunctorily. I don't think I'm really missing anyone yet. But I think about them a lot. I think about Delhi a lot. Delhi- the land of delicious food, cheap alcohol and easier commuting. Everyone walks here! To everywhere! They're going to fucking walk to the moon one day! I don't do walks. I'm from Delhi, remember?

In other news, I've already been to the Police Station once in the middle of a night of drunken debauchery and have had one happy accidents too many around my under-wired brasserie- but I'd just put it under 'beginner's luck'; the latter, I mean. The alcohol intake has been more than the food. And with my cab rides and regular alcohol, I would soon zero down to no food at all it seems.
It's been a little more than a week   since I've been here. A few days ago had I gotten to write this, it would've been filled with frustrations pouring all over it. From everything to the names of this place (Kandivalli, Warli (pronouced Varli!), Borivali, Bandra, Bandstand, Banchod...!), to the lack of basic culinary experience to the surprise rains that make you think twice about wearing coloured bras... but now I think I've already made peace with it. And if not, I know I'm on a quick way to it...

The terrace makes it better.