Date: January 31, 2013,
Somewhere in Gujarat or Maharashtra,
Time: whatever it is it is LATE
I write this from the train. En route Bombay. As always happens with me, I wrote in bits and pieces last night. Not a word do I recollect although at the time I was sure of my unfailing memory. The train that I am travelling in – the August Kranti Rajdhani - is an hour late, because of fog apparently. I'm wearing a salwar kameez and feeling cold in the air conditioned train.
Last month was quite eventful. It breakfasted in the hospital, lunched in Tanzania and hopefully will dine in Bombay. Being a Delhiite I can't help but see Bombay with a little disdain. I am perhaps too used to the space around me - the circumference where my 'aura' prospers, you see. Yeah, I am a spoilt Delhi girl whose daddy gave her a car when she turned 23.
I miss having long conversations. I miss being inspired. Have been trying to find the right word for "prabhavit' (no, 'affected' doesnt sound right enough) I think 'inspired' could be one.
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