Delhi is still caught up in the winter chill. Winter this year has been especially trying. She came early in November and even now, when two months of the new year have already rushed past, she refuses to pack her bags. Sadly, P&P has also been caught in the chill. This morning, I woke up to find him struggling with a vacuum cleaner, trying to brush off the dust on his back.
It is time for yet another move from Pune.
Ever since I first went there, life has been a bittersweet melange of highs and lows. There have been splendid moments of happiness, when my family of five has wandered around the quaint little town. We have sat in restaurants with delectable food on the table and sparkles of shooting stars on the skies above. There have also been long nights, when the most pleasant of Pune’s winds haven’t been able to rouse me from the blues. Come March-end and I will be off for yet another round of packing. Mom has been going crazy with excitement over all the fun things we will accomplish on that trip. Shopping in FC road, watching Farhan Akhtar unleash magic in his latest film, eating panipuri from the vendor outside Crossword – these are just a few.
As I stood on the balcony the other evening, I watched people rush by. There was a girl about my age, babbling away on her cell-phone. There was a rather stout man in gym clothes, his large hands posing a danger to all around him. Delhi’s few million cars also rushed by, in varied speeds and with varied horns. In the last two years in Pune, away on a err, hill, I was deprived of these very normal sightings. I missed watching twilight replace the glaring summer sunshine, all from the comforts of my place by the windowsill. I also missed watching Mom hustle and bustle about, fixing me a big glass of cold coffee or arranging in a bowl a packet-full of crisps.
Sometimes, I wish I had a magic wand or a spell that could bring back lost time. Maybe a Platform Nine and Three Quarters I could take to a world away from ours, a world where your loved ones never left you and where you could hop on to a broomstick and travel to the times you loved best. Mom says I have been spending too much time with Harry Potter. Let home sink in Mom, I say.
Anyhow, the point is, P&P is now vacuum-cleaned. He is all set to weave new stories and listen to those of yours. The engine’s all set, the whistle’s been blown. We are raring to go!