Of scrabble and life

I recount some things which I loved and lost touch with. From sports practice to carom to scrabble to old english war movies.

The thing with not living in one place for too long is that many a times you find that you don't have friends around for long. Yes you tend to make new ones easily, but there goes the baddy you used to play every evening for hours or the 2 hr morning walks on holidays or the parties on weekends you got used to or the heated philosophical discussions between all of us who thought we are all new age guru's. Its a whole new adaptation to a different set of folks, people and friends.

A classic debate goes on in my mind...what is better? One hometown for long or lots of towns for a couple of years. Every place has a distinctive characteristic to it which influences your individuality. Often inadvertently.

Bhatinda cantt was all of riverdale, not more and definitely not less. It was about family and libraries, friends, grammys and oscars, summer camps, baddy, swimming and afternoon movie sessions.

Indore was about poha and banjo's and college for the first time and all that goes with it. Choral and I think this was when I was introduced to kishore and RD burman. I do think if I would not have met the set of friends i did in Indore, all the old Hindi music would have been been alien to me still.

Every new city has a different flavor. Pune then was quaint and family like. The bakeries of Koregoan were to die for, the burgers at Jaws were the best I have tasted, the parties, the cutting thela chai, the lovely weather...

Mumbai happened in two parts. One was about living as a kid and the other just work. The feel of independence and survival of the city was addictive. The vada pavs, the smell of the sea, bandstand, the ancient buildings in town, yokos, the US club view, navy nagar and the olympic size pool, the short weekend trips to nearby places, plays at prithvi. But Mumbai was about making a career, the clients and the BD calls, the team and the success was great.

Delhi..the roads and the greenery bang in the heart of the city, lodhi road and all the roads around India gate, its about parathas and biryanis I guess.

Its en richening to stay in many places for the exposure, yet you need to have a brave heart to do so I realize or be a foolish dreamer in your own dreamworld. Fiction at times is more real than real life and to survive on your own fiction seems to be mandatory. You often feel like a stranger in a strange land. You often do not have anything to do yet you dream of traveling near and far. It just gets harder finding people like yourself to do all the fun stuff with. You treasure it when you do.

Life seems to ask me questions now...and I seem nervously to give it answers. I cross my fingers till either of us decide to take a full circle again.