Have moved into completely new surroundings, living each day with the carpe-diem motto. Tried forcing myself to write quite a few times in the last three months, but didn't feel anything was interesting enough. Went back home for a couple of days, and had quite a pleasant flight (I usually get nauseated). There was something about the entire journey - that gave me reason to write.
At the airport, boarding was about to begin when I realized I needed a quick bite. The next moment I was holding a tray laden with food (I'll explain my new-found love for food in some other post) trying to balance two handbags alongside and find a place to sit, all at once. There was a four-seater occupied by a girl about my age. Realizing there wasn't an alternative, I had to ask her if I could share her table.
I ate silently, carefully avoiding her gaze lest she decided to smile and begin a conversation. I could feel her eyes looking at me, hoping I would look up. Then suddenly she broke into giggles, and couldn't help but look at her. Must be a college kid, I thought. Thanks to my crappy mood, I wasn't even smiling. Come to think of it, I think I was making her uncomfortable with my demeanor. She quickly started explaining her situation - she was an artist who had just finished a painting exhibition; an the anxiousness of it all had given way to a huge appetite. I don't know why, but suddenly it all made sense. I was suddenly at ease. She excused herself to get a change; in the washroom I bumped into her again, making small talk with the attendant.
As I left behind the fireflies tossed into the Delhi night-sky, I promised myself to write her. That reminds me it is still due. Gotta run, good night!
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