We are a resilient lot, us Indians. Things happen, we're shaken. And we get over it. This too, we philosophically tell ourselves, will pass.

People have died before defending the country. Why should it be any different just because its not at the frontiers? But do wars have to be only at the border? We have lost people who have voluntarily gone and faced death, so we might be safe another day. Safe? What is that??

So, people die. Someone out there has lost a relative, a friend, a parent, a sibling, a spouse. Today we don't know any of them personally. So why worry? Tomorrow if the tragedy touches us, and 'news' becomes a personal fact, we'll give it a thought. Till then we will be resilient. This too, after all, will pass.

But, you know what? People are getting tired. Wary. Today when I walk on the streets, I look back over my shoulder. I look at random people on the road and wonder if they have a concealed weapon. When I meet new people, I zero in on their ethnicity and cultural background (not that that tells us anything...prejudice still breeds) rather than their identity as people. When I dine out, I am constantly on tenterhooks. I refuse to take a seat near a door or a window, because I will be first in the line of fire, in case. I am afraid to travel by public transport, I am afraid to travel by a private vehicle. I am afraid to even be a passer-by. I am scared to walk past high profile buildings, I am scared to walk through familiar chawls. I am even afraid to go near the window of my own home, that's how a couple at Nariman House was killed in their own home. Everytime, a family member leaves home, I am on tenterhooks once more till they get back. I am scared to live. And I am not me, I am every Mumbaikar, every Indian citizen. But, I have to stay calm. I have to be resilient. Because I am alive today. Tomorrow, I may not be. And then, in my wake, others will have to be calm and resilient. And the story goes on...

Disclaimer: My thoughts being as scattered as they are right now (and me feeling absolutely no urgency in collecting them), this post might be a little disconnected.
After another long sabbatical from blogging, a re-debut of sorts. This has become routine stuff now, so I won't bother with the regular explanations. Hectic month, festive season and all that jazz.
Was in Bombay for about 10 days. I don't know what it is with me and you-know-who, every time I come back, I land right in the middle of this maharashtrian-outsider fray. It's uncanny down to the point of...well...bizzare. And a little annoying. Okay, a lot annoying.
I have rediscovered tea. As in I have rediscovered tea as my comfort drink. A dusting of elaichi, smattering of ginger, a pinch of chai masala. It rocks my life. Really. It's the daal-chawal of beverages, seriously. It's another layer of homecoming.
I have also recently realized that you can have comfort zones in everything. Comfort-people, comfort-food, comfort-drink, comfort-music, comfort-clothes, comfort-reading, comfort-place, comfort-activity...
It's been cool here in Bangalore, in contrast to Bombay (I have gone back to calling it Bombay now- call it my comfort-name or my little way of protesting). Just the kind of weather where you can go for long walks and not feel spent at the end of it. It becomes dark sooner in the evenings these days, but the nights, they're not totally black-dark. The night sky is a beautiful blue-pink, starless on most nights.
Work is a little more loaded than usual, though still not as loaded as I would like it to be. Testing has well and truly taken a back-seat in my life, sometimes I wonder if our main job-descriptions should read 'travelling'. Okay, honestly, I travel much much lesser than most people in this city do, infact I work about 5 minutes from home, but now that I am on locum for Jyoti, perhaps that will change for the worse.
I think I have for the moment exhausted my ramblings. Or maybe not. Like the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that you invariably find under the cupboard or pillow after you have packed it up, I'll probably hit upon more things to write about after I log out. Probably. There's not one of Murphy's laws that don't work on me.