A lone walk to C'not

I have been weirdly sulky for two days. I guess it’s another of those fits I get when I don’t feel like working, I’m lazy but I wouldn’t sleep, I would want to read a book but get irritated too soon.

So around 6 in the evening, I figured out there was pretty much nothing I could do to while time away, I wanted to feel active again and so in a bid to fight my boredom, I just put on my jogging shoes; it’s beginning to get cold late in the days so I put a sweatshirt on and set out for a long purposeless walk. I wore my spectacles too. Perhaps to avoid having to wave to and smile at people I barely know and might find on the way. Winter evenings are not too bright and you can’t tell through someone’s glasses whether he’s looking at you or not.

So I’m neatly packed, with my shoulders drawn up and arms folded and close to my chest, letting the arrival of another cold Pilani winter sink in. I head off. I’m still aware of people around me so I haven’t started talking to myself. But I’m lost enough not to be conscious of what routes I’m taking at crosses. Walking leisurely but dodging the mischievous crows, I reach Gulab Ji’s redi. That’s when I realize I didn’t pass the saraswati temple. I like to walk past it when I’m in an indescribable mood. At times I get pulled in by some force which inspires me to silently recite to myself, the shlokas I learnt at school. Although I never felt convinced I could be invoking God by doing this, I enjoy it because it reminds me of the days I cherish most. My days at M.H.A.C Nagbani where I learnt my early lessons in Sanskrit and memorized Vedic shlokas. In those days, I never thought these would make a fond memory.

So I see Gulab Ji busy with his chai n samosa. Oddly I don’t feel like pausing to say raam- raam which I nearly always do. But alright, my glasses come to rescue and I walk on. The smart shopper in me is poked every time I walk past akshay but I feel like a juice first. There’s a back-ache capsule I want to buy and I need a recharge coupon for my mobile. So I walk up to C’not. I quite like the early evening silence there. My hello to people there is not enthusiastic. I stop at the medical store, buy my capsules and eye-drops and come to the Blue- Moon’s. Here I order one mausammi juice without ice, to mark my submission to the dawning winter, ask for the recharge coupon and take a seat outside.

Groping in my pockets, I take out my phone to send and read a few text messages. In the mean while, mausammi has arrived. I sip on it slower than I usually drink coffee. I’m enjoying the lull. I’m beginning to think about things not quite related yet one leading to the other. One funny day at school, a fellow from school I haven’t talked to lately, a book I read about a page-3 columnist, a prank me and Deepak, my first year roomie played on our wingies. I’m wearing a smile now. I quietly get up and make a slow walk back to akshay. I walk in intending to buy a bathing soap (borrowed one in the morning) but I see a banner reading ‘penguin book festival’.

Big fancy book stores, road side book stalls, hawkers in trains with magazines and digests stuffed in their arms, my friends' personal libraries and book fairs- have always had the same effect on me as does a passing ice-cream vendor on a child. They tempt and I invariably give in. I gave in. I’ll be in the book fair in my next blog!!