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Devil without a cause

I haven't forgotten you. Blame the world for conditioning us to become apathetic to most any kind of stimuli. We probably sense a million "Once upon a time" sparks every day but we let them die. I do. Which is why the words won't come, stories don't get written and everyone trudges through their feeds without satiating their hunger pangs.

It's been the kind of month that went by in the blink of an eye and yet seems to be made of nothing but endless moments. I made a work trip to Madras... because I speak Tamil. Ever so often, I'd get puzzled looks from the locals because what came out of my mouth sounded like something they understood but they couldn't quite tell why. "Where are you from?" they'd ask. "Pune" I'd say, trying to believe it because those of us in this peculiar situation are often unsure if we belong anywhere. In folklore, Narasimha straddled the doorway, one foot on either side, supremely confident in the nature of his avatar. I, on the other hand, start eying the exit when the inquisition begins. While there, I experienced this surreal moment when I was guiding the car driver in Tamil and got asked by a person I was on the phone with in Bombay if I was Maharashtrian, since my speech was sprinkled with Marathi.

How do you feel in this moment? What can you? It's a wall of reality that cannot be breached. One the one side, the fact that you struggle to feel kinship with either of your cultural realities. On the other, the sadness that you just can't get used to questions about it. 

Anyway, this is also the time of year when companies and bosses signal how much you mean to them. At least, they used to. Ours used the occasion to be mean to us. Which is galling because there's barely a job out there considered as fun and glamorous as ours but in reality is as needlessly stressful and thankless. I may not be that good a writer but even I'm not thick enough to miss the writing on the wall.

I can't wait for it to rain. Sure, the city will go to hell, while clothes will become moldy & musty enough to give Limburger a serious complex. On the flip side, we'll stop baking, petrichor will perfume the air and the sound of water falling out of the sky (which ought to fill us with more wonder than it does) will rock me to sleep.

Song for the moment: Radio Ga Ga - Queen

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