I miss Bombay

I often miss Shimla, where I spent some of the happiest periods of my childhood, most of them with my favourite cousins or my dad. Guildford smells like Shimla sometimes, bringing those memories back. Ambleside always smells like Shimla, perhaps why I like it so much.

I sometimes miss Joka, the place, some of the people, some sweet smiles, many regrets. Lakes, bridges, Calcutta and the rest.

I miss Goa. The easy escape, the careless freedom, the sea and the breeze.

I occasionally miss my Punjabi tabbar with all our eccentricities.

But the place I miss the most, that I itch to go back to every so often, is Bombay. I miss my Bombay. A hell, fucking, LOT.

It’s not my Bombay anymore. I’ve changed, and it must’ve changed. Yet I miss it like crazy and itch to be there. The unreachable itch.


Continue reading I miss Bombay


Unconsciously and frequently… grinding teeth, clenching fists & jaws, hunching shoulders.
Unable to focus long enough to read long articles or any books, outside of work.
Frequently snacking on desserts or peanut butter.
Drinking more caffeine than usual.
Restless for activity despite running twice a day.

All are signs to unwind. I need a vacation. I really need to meditate. And, maybe, spend a day at a quiet beach, or hiking around a mountain.

But mainly, meditate.

Continue reading Signs

All in a day’s work

2 horas of work, 2 commits, one publish. An hour off. 2 hours of work, including responding to half a dozen emails.

Walk the dogs. Lunch. Watch an episode of Star Trek Discovery.

Afternoon—Fix the tap.
Clean the working area under the sink. Wiggle into the tiny space under the sink and remove the old kitchen tap. Boys try to join me under the sink, and lick me to ensure I’m fine. Find two right sized pieces of wood from the pile under the shed (thank you previous owners). Spend another 5 minutes trying to get both the dogs out from under the shed, and into the house. Saw them (the wood pieces, not the dogs) into correct size and shape. Measure, mark, drill holes for the piping into the wood pieces. Fit the piping and the tap on top of the kitchen board. Realise the hole is too small for the top, thick part of piping. Disassemble everything, drill a smaller secondary hole. Reassemble everything. Wiggle back under the sink and fit everything together. Connect the water pipes. The little dog has dozed off with my right leg as his pillow. After a few minutes of fruitless cajoling, replace my leg with my rolled-up hoodie for his pillow. Get up and test everything is working. Wiggle back under the sink and tighten all the connections. Clean all the tools and the removed tap. The little one is still sleeping on my hoodie next to the sink. Open the fridge. Both the dogs are awake and ready for something, anything, from in there.

All this while cooking the little one’s meal (boiled chicken and rice) for next 24 hours.

Late afternoon—work.
The big one is sleeping behind me on the carpet. The little one is sleeping across us on the bed. I’m trying to work. Good luck to me!