yoga and petrol

Today Bhakti and I decided to register for Iyengar Yoga. This would take my yoga ventures to a whole new level. Iyengar is supposed to be very rigorous, very amazing. My friend from New York who kind of introduced me to yoga really wants to study this kind of yoga. The registration is open once a year, this week. We figured if we got there a half hour early we’d be ok. It was not ok. The line, or lack there of, was ridiculous. We were told one thing, then another. Finally when we got a number but they weren’t taking up to our number. We didn’t know we had to have proof of residency and a photo. I ran home got my papers, came back to find Bhakti getting pushed around in the crowd for a piece of paper to register us. We got the paper and were told to come back at 4:00. The number didn’t seem to matter to the people waiting to register in line, so we got on line. After almost 3 hours of waiting we were sitting at the desk to register when a man walks up to me and said, foreigners aren’t allowed to register today. I was about to cry. I tried to argue my case but it didn’t really work and now I have to go back again tomorrow. It almost doesn’t seem worth it until you think about the prestige of the place and what an opportunity it is to be able to study yoga there.
Gas is expensive! Because of the Rupee, gas increased by 7 Rupees two days ago. This is completely absurd. Apparently this Thursday there might be a strike, which might affect work significantly – some folks live far away and we have our education convention this week, and it might be almost close to impossible for them to get around without a rickshaw. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. They had to raise the price of gas because the rupee has fallen so low. We’re at a record of 56 rupees per dollar. It’s bad!

2012
05/29
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A difference still…

It’s hard to say that things haven’t been busy or that it’s just been business as usual. I think now is about the time when I can say that I’ve settled down (not permanently – but in perspective) in India. Every day life has become every day life…almost.
I was looking through my facebook wall and found a marriage video, as in someone posted someone else’s “this is who I am and if you’re interested in me, reply” video. I’m not sure why he posted it, but it may be for a friend of his. Either way, it was a reminder that I’m not in New York. It was a sweet video of a guy looking for a simple girl. Like many youtube videos, you’re interested in watching what pops up next. The next one was a very “I know what I want girl” who said unless the guy was rich and graduated from a good university, they shouldn’t bother on responding. The disparity between the two was amazing. The next video had two parents with a photo of their son; the mother is in Namaste position with her hands for the first few seconds. They’re liberal, don’t care about subcaste (whoever said the caste system was dead here? They’re liberal, but they still have to mention it!) and their son is fair (skin tone is still important though), pursuing a PhD, pursuing dual citizenship, and prefers to hold someone’s hand. I was smiling at the last point, but then she should be well qualified (I’m assuming well educated) but then must know how to cook, manage to sit at home and manage the household items. They don’t appreciate if the girl sends black and white pictures, only color.
It’s a complete different way of doing things. It also makes me realize that they way I live here, the way I interact with my friends, and probably the way my friends live here, is not the India the people in these videos live in. Even though there’s diversity amongst my friends, which we’ve been talking a lot about lately, the diversity doesn’t reach this far.

2012
05/22
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Yoga…finally

I finally started yoga classes after almost a year and a half in India. It’s kind of silly it took me this long to find a class. It wasn’t for lack of effort, well at least a little effort. In February I asked to join Iyengar (not spelled correctly) who is supposed to be one of the best yogis ever. There was a waiting list until June. I gave up shortly after that. Every once in a while I would look at a class here or there, mostly in my neighborhood, and they were all really expensive, and, funnily enough, I think foreigners gave most of them. Who wants to live in India and take a yoga class from a foreigner? I don’t. So while wandering around two weeks ago, I wandered into an institute and registered for their month long yoga class. It’s cheap, so I guess you get what you pay for. It’s not anything at all like any yoga class I’ve taken in the US. It’s a beginner’s class. A lot of it focuses on breathing exercises, which sometimes make me lightheaded. Most of them don’t at all involve flexibility. Some are even a little boring. But, I really want to do this. In almost every class there’s something new, which is good. The only time I can say this was not only not good, but also really, horribly wrong was last Friday, when the class was told to go outside the building and vomit. I’m sure there’s some kind of weird yoga explanation to this, but yea, nothing would or will convince me to self induce vomiting except if I had something that really needed to come up. Besides that, everything seems to be going well. I like to call it older person relaxed yoga. Sometimes your heart rate goes up after doing a movement that involves movement, but there’s always the relax, relax, relax part afterwards. According to the teacher, relax means, ank ke bund, hat piche, legs apart (eyes closed, hands behind). She’s great at mixing Hindi and English. I have no idea what the different movements are called; they all have quite long names. There’s a chant before and after each class. And om is at the beginning and end too. Because of work it’s actually the only month I could have done the beginners class, next month as work starts earlier, hopefully, I can move to the intermediate class which is an hour earlier. It feels good to do something “Indian” after being here for so long.
There are a few regulars who I now recognize while walking in and out of the class. We smile. It’s nice. After, because I go straight to work, I have to change. There’s no real changing area except for the “ladies section where women go for strange massages, mud baths, other kind of chemical baths, and sauna. For a country that seems to be kind of conservative about bodies and women exposing themselves, this place is all out in the open. Women seem quite free in walking around in their bodies. It’s a nice change and reminds me somewhat of when I used to go to the gym in New York and everyone was “free.” Most days the woman who sits at the desk in the front is used to seeing me and I don’t even have to ask where I can go change. Most of the time I get funny looks, but somehow they don’t faze me anymore.

2012
05/09
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Neighbors

I’m enjoying my pre-outing of a Friday night with the Temptations, an imported ginger ale, and ratatouille. I have to close my front door these days because my neighbors (both next door and across the hall) have been so in and out, it seems a little invasive. Actually, I’ve wanted to talk about that. My next-door neighbors have done a 180 since we met them and they invited themselves in for a “hard drink.” Now, the woman peers into our apartment when she walks by, disapprovingly. We have no idea what we could have done to make her feel as if she could not like us so much. I think it’s kind of funny. Her nephew is as rowdy as ever. He’s in an out; I’ve run into him at the vet (when we had Caxixi) at the liquor store, and all over the streets. He gave me a ride last week to get the kids claiming he was going in that direction and then when I got off he said he was just dropping me. It was a little weird.
The guys across the hall, however many there may be (I’m still only certain of two and the other ones always seem to be changing), have now decided they can talk to me all of a sudden. In fact, they like me enough that I’ve now been their beer cooler. Well, to be fair, the two I know who live there seem to be really nice. They always say hi. A couple weeks ago they said more than hi and I realized that they don’t speak English. I was a little surprised. Anyway, as I was coming in one day they asked if I had a fridge; they don’t have one. They asked if they could store a Sprite. Of course, being a good neighbor, I said yes and that I’d be back later that night. When I got back home, I rang their bell and they took the Sprite with a thank you. About 15 minutes later they rang my bell asking if I could store two beers for them. One was actually a present for me – a corona. I tried to explain that it’s pretty common in the US and that he shouldn’t worry about giving me anything, but he was pretty insistent. I said that I would hold off till the next day.
By the way, my ratatouille is amazing!
The next day he took his Kingfisher and asked if I tried the Corona. I didn’t. I didn’t understand the next few words from his mouth but he was apparently asking if I wanted to come over for chicken. I told him I was veg and he said ok and went in. The next night, an unknown roommate came and asked for the Corona. I probably wasn’t going to drink it anyway. I find our interactions hilarious. Last night while I was walking in after 11pm one of the more known ones (the one who thinks he’s going to use my mac) asked if I wanted dinner; he was going out and offered to pick up something for me. It’s nice. All of them are hilarious.

2012
05/04
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Another sad story

I don’t know what difference it would make being home right now. This is now the fourth time this has happened since moving here, although this is more removed and closer in some ways. A friend of mine from summer camp, who I very briefly dated passed away. I don’t know how or when. Facebook gives these updates and his obituary was posted on a mutual friend’s page. We lost contact with each other a long time ago, but it’s still weird to be so far away and not have a person to reach out to who knew him or anything. Manoj isn’t around so I can’t really reach out to my roommate either. I guess it’s kind of morbid to think about, but god forbid anything happen to any of my friends here either, and if I was back in the US, I’d have the same feeling. It’s this feeling of uselessness or empty sadness because you’re so far removed there’s nothing you can do, there’s no hand to reach out for, there’s just the feeling. Technically there’s nothing you could do anyway, but there’s a sense of comfort being around people of context. I don’t like it, it’s sad and makes me feel, well, just sad.

2012
05/01
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Different kind of Friday night

Today is a vacation day. It feels like it. I have nothing to do but relax and enjoy the day. I feel like often I write when I have days like this – which may lead one to believe that I actually rest a lot more than I do, but I feel like I never have a day. I also, as Jessica pointed out, as my parents have pointed out, load everything on my plate. I barely have an evening to myself where there isn’t some activity, where some friends haven’t planned something – sometimes as little as getting juice or just coming over to hang out. I kept it like that for a reason. When I first got here I wanted to be busy. I didn’t want to think about home, I didn’t want to miss anyone or anything. Now that this has turned into a home, I just like seeing my friends, doing various things even just getting some juice or ice cream with them. Right now at Naturals (a local ice cream store that’s amazing and sells ice cream based on fruits that are in season) has a mango option. They put in mango ice cream, mango pieces (and they put in a lot, not like many ice cream places in the US that only give you 5-8 fruit pieces) and then on top of that they give you a scoop of malai ice cream. It’s like heaven for your taste buds.
Anyway, last night was a night I planned to come home, take a walk, make dinner, have a glass of wine and watch a movie in the AC room and fall asleep. That, of course, didn’t happen. It was Ishwar’s sister’s wedding on Tuesday. In his community, girls get married at 18, boys at 20. He invited us, he specifically invited me, and none of us went. On Thursday I passed by the Chinese corner place where some of the other kids work and Chapel mentioned that Ishwar was mad, like really mad. He doesn’t care that we had to work, he wanted us to go, and we disappointed him. I went to his house last night to make amends.
Sagar and I already were trying to make a “make up” activity. We found a circus to take them to and I was excited to give them the good news. It’s been a while since we’ve taken them on a trip. Ritesh met me there to meet them. None of our kids were outside when we got there, but one kid who we’ve spoke to before told us to come and he’d take us to Ishwar’s house. I had been inside their community before, but not like this. Ishwar met us. His mom and sister were both outside the house and we met them, and everyone else who just happened to walk by. Ishwar told us how he or one of the other kids was related to anyone. He asked if we had eaten. I told him my plan to go home. We were invited in to eat at his grandmother’s house. The dal chaval was so good, Ritesh thought it amazing. We continued to meet people as they came in and out of the house. We met his new brother in law. Some of the older boys came in to take a picture. He speaks Kanada with his family, Hindi with us, and Marthi in school. Later on in the evening he told me he wants me to teach him a bit of English. His accent was pretty good. After we ate we decided to visit the other boys who were working. After some conversation with them, he asked, didi what are we doing now? They spoke about how tonight there’s a dance show at the new mall down the road – this mall is another one of these huge malls with super pricey stores (even by American standards) on the inside and half of the stores aren’t even built yet and just have coming soon signs outside of them even though you’re unsure about when or what is coming soon). So we reminded them that today we’d be going to see the circus. Ishwar wanted to see the mall, so we went.
It’s funny because Ishwar is small, if he passes his exams, he’ll go to 8th standard next year. It’s also hard to get rid of the shy boy image that he had with us for so many months. On our walk to the mall he mentioned things like that they didn’t go into the mall because if they went in, the guards would see their clothing, know they’re from the slums, and then kick them out. Once, in fact, they went in the mall (I’m not sure who all they is), got ice cream and they were kicked out. He also said that he never really wanted to bring me into the community before because I’m a foreigner and people would act or look at me differently, maybe even ask for money or candy. None of that happened last night.
The mall was a great experience for him. He knows he gets to do these things because he’s with me. I don’t need to remind him of that, and sometimes I go back and forth wondering if I’m spoiling the kids – do they associate foreigner with gifts and cool experiences? They don’t ask for things from us. In fact, when we gave them capoeira shirts, they were reluctant to take them – they only took them after they saw that I was giving everyone shirts. And, part of it is true. Foreigners come here and do things like me, work in NGOs, foreigners in general have more money to spend. What’s wrong with them seeing reality as long as they don’t abuse it? They don’t include their friends, they never ask for anything, they know how to behave. It’s a moral conflict I think about often.
Last night at the mall, as I was saying, was awesome. We went on the escalator. Have you ever seen anyone use technology for the first time? To see his face was beyond priceless. He really wanted to go on the escalators. His steps on the escalator were very intentionally placed, he let his feet slide off the first time going up, and calculated his steps off. He held my hand in the glass elevator when we went down because he couldn’t find his balance. He actually just held my hand the whole time. Ritesh took him in to use the bathroom, which was as he said, pretty amazing. Ritesh made him use everything –whatever that means. We walked around and in some of the fun smelly stores we went in. He liked a certain kind of soap I made him smell. We tried to put some body spray on him but the bottle was empty. I would think that we were a funny sight to see. In a fancy mall you have a foreigner girl, an Indian guy and an Indian kid who is definitely of no relation to either of them. No one really looked twice at us. It was nice, I bet it was nice for Ishwar as well. We went to the huge supermarket in the basement as well. He had fun there and when we came to the pressure cookers he spoke about the different ones they have. The meat and fish department was pretty entertaining as well. He eats Chicken on Fridays sometimes. I think we went on the escalator and elevator several times, just for fun. It was a lot of fun.
As we went up and out of the mall we stopped and looked at the fancy Mercedes they had displayed. He touched it and we looked inside and ooed and aaahed. There was a promotional video and during small clips they showed New York. I got excited for him to see it, if only for a millisecond. He calls New York my village. Your village is where your from even though you don’t live there. Many village people here, like most other countries, move into cities, to the slums, and they go back to their villages during vacations. On the way back we passed by the other kids again and he switched into Kanada to tell them what we did. As we left him back at his house, he gave a rundown of today’s activities. We told we’d meet them at 6 because the circus starts at 7. He said that I have to get there at 5:30, we’d sit, and everyone would get there at 6, it would take 5 minutes to get everyone in the car and then we’d go and see the circus and then at 9 we would come back, maybe 10. It was adorable. He reminds me of me when I get excited and speak really fast about everything that’s going to happen. Ritesh and I walked to get some ice cream and discuss what had just happened. Both of us were fascinated with him.
I’ll stop here for now. There are other things going on this weekend. Tomorrow is a 5k – I’m thinking of doing it barefoot (there’s a category for that). After that we’re giving a mini capoeira demo to the running group, at 4 I’m doing a mini samba demo for International Dance Day with one dance group and then at 6 a capoeira demo for another dance group. It’ll be fun and exhausting. Again, there’s usually only one day off. Although…Tuesday, I just found out is Labour Day, which means, another day off. We’ll see what I can fill my time with then.

2012
04/28
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Weekend Update

A Sunday! Wow. It’s been over a month since I had a “Sunday.” I reinstated the running on Sunday morning at the University. It’s still beautiful, not matter how dry Pune seems to be, the University space is green and seems a world away from the traffic, sounds, heat (especially at 6am), and noise of Pune. I even tried to copy the guy who does stretching by the statue and then culminates with a long set of meditation. I can’t put my feet in real meditation style, nor does my concentration last half as long as his, but I guess I can try.
Last week was busy, really, really busy. We’re having our end of school year events – school ends in April here because summer is mostly in April/May and the rains start somewhere in June. Every center had a mini event. I traveled so much; I was so tired. Even yesterday we worked. It’s been a lot. We’re getting ready for appraisals, which start on Tuesday. On Monday is our Annual event; dance, song, speech, and chatter of children has been ringing throughout the office for the past couple of weeks. It’s been a lot!
My watchman is leaving. He said it’s been too rough for him; I don’t think the building manager’s wife is too nice to him. Manoj and I didn’t like him too much at first (the guard). He asked Manoj for an advance on the car washing – this isn’t really done. We were a little worried. A couple times he would show us his doodling, which were actually really good. He would try to chat with us a bit; generally he’s pretty friendly. Recently, he got a new cell phone, his sister gave it to him as a present. I think maybe 3 times he’s asked me if I think his cell phone is nice. He’s really excited about it. I had a slight debacle with a delivery last week and he seemed generally concerned. When I walk up to Boscar (the beautiful golden lab with the vicious bark but sweetest disposition once you know him) he says, “bahut piyari.” The dog loves me so much. He assumes the position of petting as soon as I come close. I’ll be sad to see the watchman go. He’s a sweet older man who walks with a straight left leg who paints and eats on newspaper on the floor.
My house has been a bit of a hotel lately. After my parents left, the Brazilian girl Sophia was here, Jessica moved in almost 2 weeks ago, and while she’s off for the weekend, Susie and her husband are staying before they take off back to the US. It’s been kind of awesome but kind of overwhelming. Between home and work I have no home or self time. This week should be nice, still busy at work, but a little more relaxed on the home front. Jessica brough Clorox wipes. I’m not usually a fan of things that come in special fancy packaging that are basically the same as things that you can do yourself. I must say, they’re pretty awesome.
Another exciting thing is that I’ve finally gone back to making my own dahi – (yogurt). It turned out fantastic. It’s a small accomplishment, but it’s a good one. I’ll take the rest of my alone time on Sunday to read the paper, relax, and go to the park with my friends before a Sunday salsa gathering.

2012
04/22
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Baroda – a few weeks late

I didn’t write about Gujrat – to the dismay of one of my friends here who recently discovered my blog.

This was a great Baroda trip. It’s a bit difficult to explain, but Gayatri had to back out last minute to go somewhere else. We were supposed to stay in her house, with her, and her parents. Both her and her parents aren’t here. We stayed anyway; they insisted. We left Pune at 7:30, 15 minutes after we were supposed to, and only 10 minutes after the last group of folks arrived. They enjoy making me go slightly crazy when they’re late. They kept telling me to relax, but for some reason, the American in me won’t allow me to be late or accept lateness from others when it comes to things like bus times. The bus would have left them in the US. Good thing the bus was later than them here.
The rule was not to sleep on the bus, but of course, none of us abided. We all passed out and awoke at the first rest stop. After getting off the bus, the driver kicked everyone off, and quite bitterly at that. We spent around 45 minutes there. Sachin’s mom cooked us all parathas and we happily ate them with dahi and a really yummy peanut chutney. After sleeping, waking, eating carrots, and sleeping more, we woke up at 6am for another rest stop. It was pitch black out. The amazing part was sitting in a cold rest stop for 20 minutes and to see how the first break of sunlight creeps into the world. I’ve seen it before, but it was somehow different. We’re a great group of people so no moment is lost without a laugh or making fun of something or other, even while getting off a bus and waiting for the car to pick us up. It’s incredible really. We were hosted by Gayatri’s family’s driver and were taken around the city, cooked for, and assisted for three days. The itinerary is kind of as follows – as mapped out by Gayatri to her father who provided instructions for those who were supposed to take care of us. I reread that line and realized how I’ve been indoctrinated. I don’t feel strange that they had a driver, their driver take us around, that they have a maid and cook who cooked for us. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. I’m still quite conscious of it, but more accepting of it as well.

Noticings about Gujrat: It’s much cleaner, hotter, spacious, greener, and drier than Pune. They have fancier tool booths. Both Manoj and I looked at each other with the ooooo face when we passed through. We abided by the itinerary, for the most part provided by Gayatri. When we got “home” Kajal put out this amazing breakfast and we set out for the days events. Her parents got us a mini van for the 9 (turned 8 of us). It was amazing.

Amazing artists, especially the Indian modern art. In each of the galleries there was random European art, mostly Italian and French by artists I’ve never heard of; it was kind of weird. There was great modern Indian art, but the section must of consisted of less than two dozen paintings. After the second museum, we set off for a temple on the top of one of the only peaks in Baroda. I had to face my fear of heights (which has slowly developed in the past few years along with a fear of elevators). Indro wasn’t ready to go either, but after he saw the technology of the tram, he decided it was ok. I took his cue and struggled on the way up. It was a spectacular view. Many places we went, including this temple, didn’t allow photos, hence, there will be none to show.

There are so many mosquitoes! I look like I got a rash. In between my dreams where monkeys were very prevalent, I was bitten up to no other on my legs and back. It’s awful! They itch. Usually Indian mosquitoes bites (for no particular reason) don’t itch for too long, maybe a day or two; these ones are brutal!

The next morning we were out by 6:30, a first deviation from the itinerary. We saw the sun temple and changed the plans to see Akshardam, a privately owned temple that is so well maintained. It also had a water park (closed) and a sea show (also closed). We found that a bit strange.

The rest of the trip is documented in the pictures below and through the album, which you should check out. I would love to write about the rest of it, but doubt I’d do it justice a few weeks later.

For all photos: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10101017786798899.2956188.814909&type=3&l=1a8199a9a2

2012
04/22
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Bus observations

As of the past quite a long time I’ve been traveling by bus as opposed to travling by train. I can say I upgraded. Speaking to Jessica, my temporary roommate while Manoj travels around spoke about how we’ve traveled in India. Jessica is from California doing a fellowship here (just some background). We both travel by bus now; we’ve both pretty much abandoned the train. I’ve exmpreneced the train, it was an experience, but I feel much better sitting in AC for 3.5 – 5 hours on a comfortable seat rather than in a hot train. Am I spoiling myself…maybe.
Anyway, traveling by bus you often get to make some observations (only on the times when you don’t sleep yourself). I paid attention to the way people slept this past week. Two weeks ago I was so exhausted, I fell asleep before we officially exited Mumbai and woke up when we were in Pune. I sleep with my arms crossed on the bus. This week, the guy sitting next to me held his wrist. He rested both arms on the armrest, and I was left to make my own elbow space in the air. Sometimes there is a young couple, very infrequently they show any kind of affection. Most of the time they’re quite reserved and barely touch. Rarely you’ll see a very public couple who hold hands or rest on each others’ shoulders. Also rare is a single woman traveling. I always feel bad for kids and sometimes worse for their parents. Only once did I see a mom bring a book for a kid to read, and the kid was apparently from my friend’s elementary school. The mom was amazing. She had an under 2 year old and an 9-10 year old. Her management of the two was pretty fantastic.
I was about to think about how it was rare for people to talk on the phone, and if they do, they’re quite polite, covering their mouth over the speaker and barely spending any time on the phone. However, as this thought was crossing my mind, the man right behind me had a very loud, very long conversation. I’d say, for the most part, people are really respectful when it comes to cell phones. Something really nice happened though which counter balanced that. The man in front of me, as he pushed back his chair, asked if that was ok with me, if I was comfortable. I was shocked and impressed.

2012
04/16
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Brief Update with Too Much to Update

It’s been too long and too much has happened. My parents have gone; it was amazing to have them here – they did a good job in a completely different culture, different food, hot weather, really hot weather, meeting my friends, dealing with me. It was definitely an interesting experience for me as well. It was important for them to get a glimpse of my life, what I do on a day to day basis, but balance that with the fact that they can’t run around like I do, that they were probably still jet lagged, and are not in their 20s. I think they had a great time. They said they did. When we reached back home late they got to spend Thursday roaming around my neighborhood and the shopping/busy area while I went to work. Thursday was fun because they came to my capoeira class, met all my friends and had their first Indian thali. I think they had a lot of fun exploring some new tastes and ways to eat food. We tried to teach them to eat only with their hands, but it’s not an easy task to master in one sitting. It was super exciting because I got to take my mom on my bike. She seemed like she was freaking out for the first five minutes and then relaxed into it. My dad rode on the back of my friend Sachin’s bike.
We had off on Friday and dilly dallied around the house, went to breakfast at my favorite south Indian hidden restaurant and roamed around my old neighborhood. They liked it. I was happy. They met my old landlady and we spent entirely too much time at her house, but it’s a difficult place to leave, especially when food is stuffed in your face along with wedding books and a loud small woman.
On Saturday morning we hopped in a cab to Mumbai where there was a mini debacle with the hotel. They wanted my passport to register me so I could stay. The problem is that I never travel with my passport and it never occurred to me to take it. We met my friends who were kind of all over the place, had a small meal at my friend Nupur’s house and figured out that his mom’s mom was my mom’s age. I think that’s nuts; not bad, just crazy.
Sadly and kind of momentously we parted at the Taj Hotel where my parents went to lunch at one of their many fancy-dining areas. I came back home and into a whirlwind of work, work, and friends and work. In the midst I managed to loose my wallet. I got it back after cancelling everything, but the gesture of the man who gave it back was pretty amazing. He went to my old landlady’s house (who didn’t even have the courtesy to call me), one bank and then finally another one, who called me and asked if they could give him my phone number. I can’t believe someone went through such an effort to track me down. Some of my friends think that he might be the one who took all the money inside and then realized what a pain it is to get new papers like a license so he decided to return those things. I don’t care; it was still worth it. My American coins were still there for some mysterious reason. So strange!
Today also marked the departure of one of my favorite people in Pune. Our group of friends has shrunk a little bit this week; another friend left earlier last week.

If I don’t sleep now, I might just pass out while on the computer.

2012
04/13
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