Is it worth suffering the torment of a double migraine, cramped seating, bad food and a hellish 4 hour taxi ride ?
Only if I'm coming home. To Pune.
For some reason that seemed to make sense at the time, I decided to surprise my family by showing up at the front door a week earlier than expected. The only thing that could go wrong with this little scheme was that I would call my Dad at 4:00 am and on asking him where he was, be told that the family was in Bombay for an impromptu visit. Followed by the interesting news that I, on the other hand was giving a few black looks at the stubbornly shut front door. You know... ensuing pandemonium.
A certain someone just recently remarked that there would no doubt be a tale involving my trip home. I concurred. As I have found out, figurative spanners manage to strangely and smugly steer their way comfortably into the machinery running my life. Simply put, my folks were in Bombay on the same day I was and had only reached home 6 hours before me. Ergo, pandemonium did ensue and I go an earful from a rather irritated pater at 4:00 am. Rather shattering for a guy expecting ecstatic welcomes and instead is given a lesson in the effective use of a whispered voice while delivering invective. Ces't la vie.
Surprised faces... real filter coffee, finally... my room, at last... a clean bathroom... pani puri... an actual bed...
Seeing my bike gave me my only weak-kneed moment so far. Didn't quite realize how much I'd missed the old red kinetic. And Pune traffic accepted me like I'd never left, allowing me to spend a vulgar amount of time zipping through the circus that it is on pure instinct.
Without a license ofcourse. Which will be making the same 27 hour journey this weekend. Until then, well... I suppose the police mama's price has gone up a bit.
Song for the moment: Coming back to life - Pink Floyd