Kind of ironic that I have to get "blog writer block" at a time when sigh so much is happening. And even after drinking Bengal ka paani? I had been thinking all along that there was something in the water responsible for the Bengali mafia out there when it comes to men and women of literature but alas. Chalo Tagore ki Gitanjali na sahee but koee decent blog post tau likho.
So what did we do this month? The question is what did we NOT do? We travelled. After transiting through Bangkok where alas a rendezvous with Jammie was not to be, we landed in Dhaka. Toto, something tells me we are not in Kansas any more, we are not in Rawalpindi either. You do the math. Blurry eyed, hot and sticky, we do Sophie's Choice Part Deux between two apartments minutes upon arrival. Errr, hot pink chocolate kitchen or the one with suspicious smell? Pink kitchen apartment it is. Thus proving smell before sight (if ever there is a slug fest between the five senses). The apartment is where the owners of the place Parul recently bought might have felt very comfortable. Showcases where teeny toony lights never go off. Tartan print cushions. Smugglers wala bed, all it needs is Raj Kumar ka Jaani dressing gown. Bathroom may tabahee , uff what killer marble. And kitchen jalwa you already know about. Spent the first day floundering about and very Jealous of Pesho who we heard through a volley of SMSes was quite Queen of the Castle (where castle is not Technicolour like ours).
Escaped to India for work and some Rest and Recreation the next day. Guwahati was fun for you. I mostly slept and tut tutted how the city was changing. Gman held his tongue about what a little hypocrite I was turning into as I had bemoaned the lack of " something happening" in Dhaka only 48 hours ago. Phir it was Delhi's turn to be subject to Mom and Bub while Baba did what Babas do. Even that city has changed, so many changes to adjust to sweet heart. Kajol is peaches and cream courtesy Olay, Delhi has Select City, Emporio and a cool airport.
I met MM and Parul and was struck by how we could pick up from where we left off on a blog post. And how incredibly cute their kids are.
And then back to Dhaka it was this weekend. Baba had returned to Bangladesh two days ago, and though I left for the airport with great trepidation you were a little trooper and much better behaved than your mother who ranted and raved as Jet Air was delayed by two hours.
On return the apartment did not look that bad. My sister said it is because slowly my aesthetic sense is disappearing. Oh well at least my olfactory nerves are safe. I dont think they would have survived an year in the Apartment from Smell Hell.
We have a maid who cleans ( where we is the operative word, she works in all of the homes of the organization that is employing Gman, so we are either very fortunate to bag her or horribly unlucky as the days unfold) Chaaya Madam too is yet to make up her mind regarding what she thinks of us. There are days when she comes in cheerily and tries to make cooing sounds towards us, other days she comes nose in air and will not even make eye contact.
You have become chipkoo numero uno. We cant even break eye contact with you lest the famous lower lip starts trembling. I am waiting for a day in the future when you will be all gel in hair, dressed up tashan sey, friends waiting at the door and I swear I am going to cling to you crying Dont Goooo, Im going out with you too, You ALWAYS leave me , bawwwlllll.
Just You Wait,