Where do you go... ???

What does one do when one is placed under sudden medical house arrest???
stay at home... what else!!
So, am stuck at home through most of the day and looking forward to an evening coffee...
But that is not the question in my head.
For the last four days, or evening rather, i have chosen not to go to Joggers Park or run on the Carter road Promenade. I have walked and walked and walked along the road and around in Bandra just so I can escape the crowds there... But then, when you are in Bombay can the crowds be far behind???
No. Never.
So where do you go if you want a quite moment without too many people in your line of vision?
I'm still trying to figure that. I'm kinda bored of confining myself to my flat or looking down on the path ahead of me as I run/jog/walk while my ear drums protest while I drown out traffic and other human noise with very loud music.
In Delhi I would have headed to Lodhi Garden. Don't get me wrong. It's not as if Lodhi has no crowd. But Lodhi is huge. The chances of someone else invading your personal two-arms-distance-from-me space are very little. And that, let me tell you is a boon. Especially when your own emotions are like a stormy sea and the last thing you want is other people's emotion and energies walking into your's... that's criminal trespassing!!
But the question still is unanswered... where does one go??? humm.... we'll have to figure...

Trodden and trampled and tested by high-tech... :)

Most people end up doing what they say they will; especially, if they say it even with a touch of sincerity. But, if I say it, even if I am dripping with sincere intentions, chances are I will not be able to do it or if I do, it will be one hell of an uphill task! This is why I hate planning and this is also why I have not been able to write in what seems to be forever!

The minute I decided I will now begin my committed relationship with the blog-sphere my darling lap-sitter piece of high-end technology decides to be super-uncooperative,  complete with question marks and sad faces (all you exalted Mac users will know what I am referring to. For all the mere mortals, go Google!)

The little dyke comes back after 10 days, thankfully without burning a hole in my pocket (bless extended student warranty and a certain Ms Chauhan for that!). But that is not the end of the tech woes.  Now that laptop is done being a freak, can the internet  be far behind? Apparently not! It decides unilaterally that it needs a week long holiday.

So I sit and sit and twiddle my thumbs endlessly, scream a lot a some poor engineers working for the worst possible internet service providers, they are called Wincable by the way, and finally get my way through.

Phew! All’s well that ends well… if only….

Just when you think the time is right to get some time out and work those fingers, in comes Mum into the picture.  A very happy and very very exhausting eight days later I am finally doing what I thought I’d do every weekend some four weeks ago!

But when the person is me, the chances that nothing goes as per plan are, like I said before, very very high…

So now, I am saying yet again… keep reading and I shall keep enthralling all of you interested in what I am doing in Bum-Bai with random rants

Living with crows, in shades of grey

What are the chances that you will end up exactly where you didn't plan to at all? In fact using the word plan would be a bit much. What if it was something that never even crossed your mind because clearly it was not even remotly close to the range of your mental radar of possibilities. In my case the chances are very high.
Correction. Extremely high. Super high. Very very very high. Whatever works best to explain the palusibility.
Then why on earth did I never anticipate being in Bombay? Beats me...
It simply never ocurred to me that going by my track record my chances of ending up in Bombay (Yeah! sue me Shiv Sena and MNS, but I will call this city Bombay!!!) were HIGH.
So, here I am, in a new city, living in a lovely flat in Bandra with a wonderful friend and working in an office that takes five minutes to reach in an auto. Honestly!
I know I know I live a charmed life by Bombay standards. Didn't have to deal with the brokers or the landlords. The obnoxious traffic doesn't suck the last ounce of happiness out of my blood every morning and evening and all I had to do to call this city home for now is come here for a long long overdue 4 day break, end up finding my current job while chilling at the Bagel Shop and make my way up here, eeerrr, down here actually, two months later with just a suitcase and a cabin bag for company.
This wasn't the plan. The cabin bag and the suitcase and me in that order were itching to work in grey grey and cold cold London. But here I am in grey grey stinky stinky warm warm Bombay, already dreading the hot hot swealtry swealtry summer and the ultra wet wet fungal smelling monsoons. I love the rains, don't get me wrong. But I hate mould and clothes that don't dry for days...
Anyway, I like Bombay. But I don't love it. I am still trying to understand the love-hate relationship the city and I have come to share and why. I mean I love my flat and my office (I seriously do. Not lying. Cross my heart...), I love candies and their coffee, I like Prithvi cafe and Carter road promenade and joggers park and the coconut trees and the sea. I love the sea unconditionally. But I cannot stand to sit near it for more than five minutes here. It leaves me with a headache. The stench that is. I've been told that over time I learn to sunconsciously ignore it... I'm still waiting for that to happen...
But that is not all. I have to always choose my place at my favourite cafe's very very carefully least I get bird shit on me yet again. Oh yeah! I've been shat on my Bombay birds four times since I got here. Four times in 8 weeks! That's four times the number of times I had to deal with that crap in the rest of my well spent years!!! And I have lived well past my teens mind you.
Then again, what are the chances that you end up saving you self from Scottish seagulls that crap a mug-full each time they do (good enough to literally drench you!) for a whole year and end up being bird-shit prey in Bombay several times over and top it all step on cow dung on your first day in the city. Perfect cherry on the icing. But then what else was I expecting from a city where I constantly hear crows crowing. They shut up only between late at night till abt 3 am and start all over again. I can hear them even above the constant din of the traffic. A constant almost-humming sound but definitely not pleasant. Do you too??? Or is it only me and my virgin ears??? It's probably me I am guessing... after all I am the outsider and not them crows right!!!
Pardon me for digressing. Tends to happen when you've been itching to ramble....
But the city... hummm... now the city is lovely... but...
Oh whatever... am bored now... I need to find something else than eating chocos for dinner and writing on a Friday night in this high-on-nightlife city... Getting high is definitely an option but too much effort... driving cannot be an option... my lovely wheels are still in Delhi (Yeah! I know you had probably figured by now that I am a Delhiite...) ... ho-hum... the air is glum... I'm now a Bombay bum...
Friday night at home... hummm... What are the chances... eh!?

PS - there will be more randomnes here as I bum about more in this grey city of crows... :)