bubble tea is the 'f$%# the world' drink for a grown up on a lunch out from work. it comes with a free carry-to-work game of catching black balls and pulling at them with a straw. alongwith a hearty meal with some sea animals whose names are unknown and therefore unacknowledged.

one of those days

got some cool books I'd been looking for, from a hidden bookstore in that far-away city, while doing that rare - travel alone - thing. the owner even looked like the sort of guy I would have hit on (I probably did flirt a bit, or at the very least made some totally unnecessary conversation), if I weren't boringly married and faithful, and yes, the thought did cross my mind right then, given I was there exactly one more night on my own at a tucked-away hotel, the address to which no one knew right then. hah!

this shop in fact had one row peppered with author-signed copies, had no one bothering to dust the orphaned second-hands they must have procured from various sources, and had one of the two guys writing out this chalk-message on a lil blackboard. It took me some time to figure out what it meant, as I had been cut off from the yelling and shouting of Indian news on tv for about a week thanks to the traveling with family and alone. Modi was supposed to address the nation that evening, and the message was prescient about what he would say. I teased the owner a bit by giving him crisp fresh Modi currency notes.

today, strangely, I want to be back on those streets, not just in blore but in delhi and in kochi.

the sun still shines the same. its still peaceful and calm outside. birds chirping, kids and parents fetching or being fetched from school. still those lil worries frowning brows. has my kid eaten? did he poop? did she make friends? is she learning or is she slow? how much time do I have before I must get back to work? when is the next deadline? ...

in the recent very recent past, two mornings I have been stunned with the normalcy of the world around me, with the apathy that results from the practical attending to the minute details of a daily routine. life must go on, the living must worry about inconsequential details because for now, we are safe, we are spared the destabilizing effects of world politics.

there are those that don't understand. and then those that don't care enough. also those, who avert themselves from uncomfortable information. and those who wonder, and keep wondering, what is their role in this, in what led to this and where it will go. and those who actually contribute in ways that have real, immediate or long term effects. those who make the situation worse, knowingly or unknowingly, passively or actively, by saying and doing, or by keeping silent. and those of course, who belong to many or all of these categories together. those who shout themselves hoarse, coming out in solidarity with the destabilized, and those amongt these who congratulate themselves for their voices, and as a result award themselves a break from any real action.

and those who have troubled dreams, feel and allow themselves to feel helpless, crave for the golden sun to calm their minds because that's all they can hope for. and wonder if they are using this as an excuse to feign inability to work, on their daily routine, their weekly routine.