Eventless!

What is it that makes life in my little town so blatantly boring? I just found this link to this site: Brown Paper Bag.
And it's got all sorts of enticingly good stuff about the urban social life in the city of Mumbai!That said, none exists here. Or if they do, I haven't found them so far. Again, maybe having few places to chill out on weekends is a good enough reason for one to plunge in sheer hard work, business and all. Yet, I get this dive deep down feeling, like a plunging neckline that perhaps I am doomed? I have adopted this little town as my own. I deserve to be here. I love it here. It gives me a familiar comfort that no other place does. I like the fact that I go to the local store to inadvertently bump into someone I know. I love the part where, no matter where I go, its safe simply because its too small a world here. There is no need for a batman or a superman here. Little beach side cafes, kebabs on the sidewalk, hot sunny streets, the lovely parks, everything here is lovable minus the social calendar. There just doesn't seem to be one sort of bursts my bubble. Oh don't get me wrong! There exists some cool clubs here, some nice restaurants, poolside lounges et al. Yet there is missing the SPUNK. I wish we had more events for women, more wild parties and some really outdoorsy life loving friends too! To taste the good life!! Sigh.

Metamorphosis

After a very long hiatus, with a final presentation, shifting homes, shifting countries, unsolicited unwanted unasked for hurdles related to the relationship kind and much more, I am here again. to write. Having spent the last few months in my old hometown, where I grew up, I have emotionally decided to call it my home. I have decided to not categorise myself both physically and emotionally as a nomad. The kind that lives out of suitcases. Its simply a little too tough to give up one's way of life, one's palpable thinking is one's identity and that goes onto define the values, the lifestyle, the choices that you make. So here I am at the crossroads, between the road less travelled and the one that assures you goodwill and fortune. Not that I do not want the latter, but the former keeps you in your element I suppose. Thus to reduce the harshness of what reality has to offer, I am back on this writing space to write it all out, to et off some steam, so that I can re assure myself that that the road I am about to take may not be as bad as I atrribute it out to be!

Life here is good. I am lucky, if not very lucky. I have everything that I want here. There's shelter, family, friends...everything. And perhaps, its about time I bring out some activities of quality of which binge drinking and facebooking don't qualify. The journey hasn't been all smooth. I've been selfish and then selfless. It depends. Not really acted according to what the situation demanded. But now, I must keep aside my thoughts on Frida, the walks in deep little cobbled streets in Florence, the slopes of Bergamo, the samosa selling pakistanis in Barcelona, my oh so gay friends with who I laughed out loud and drank and ate, and all that. I have to be this other person, who can dream but only secretly. Who can laugh and be merry but only within the crevices of her soul. I need to metamorphise into a woman, cos its time now.