Sweet nothings

It’s the same air we breathe, yet it feels different. Yes, it’s more humid, but that’s totally beside the point. I’m talking about this refreshing wave of familiarity rekindled; this friendly hot air pumping your sweat glands to work at full force- not quite unlike summer on the other side, but that minus the friendliness of course. Ask me not to elaborate on the friendliness- when you’ve lived three years in a land not exactly hailed for its hospitality, even the air becomes foreign.

So the long-anticipated summer holidays have finally arrived for everyone. I came home with quite an ambition this time- made a whole list of ambitious stuff to be accomplished. Like, for instance, finishing brutally unfinished chapters of growing travelogues. Perfecting my French- I mean, Russian. Or both, perhaps. Finding a lifelong cure for acne. The list goes on. Frankly, I think I have a better chance at winning Wimbledon than completing the list. Speaking of which, by the way, Federer lost to Nadal in a brilliant five-setter that got me glued to the screen till way past 4 in the wee hours of morning, no thanks to London rain which had the match suspended twice (thank God they’ll be putting the roof from next year onwards). I still think Federer’s winners (and not to mention aces) in his comeback after down two to love were pure genius, but kudos to Nadal for such dogged perseverance and vigour. It sure makes me wanna pick my racket up again… if only I had someone to play with. Tsk. (Erfa...!!!)

Writing has to take a backseat for a while now as I have tons to catch up on my reading. Except, of course, writing my travelogues. Yes, yes. Anyone interested, stay tuned… ;p