Apologies that this is slowly and surely becoming Monday slant. Ugh. Hope you believe me when I say that that is not my intention. But hey, I’m on Eastern Standard Time so the delay is also going to be (dis)proportionately higher.
(Update on my bag in the end.)
Speaking of North America, I have been in southern Mexico for over a week now. It has been very fun; mostly because our
stay is—delicious. Yes, one word to describe both, the stay and the breakfast they serve here every morning. The weather is hot and humid, very much like the Arabian coast I am used to. But the fans here are… all talk and no action, all play and no work, all katli and no kaju; they spin lazily with no urgency to provide wind whatsoever, while looking all pretty with a light and what not. They could learn a thing or two from their Indian counterparts—whirr like a helicopter and provide a steady stream of white noise which becomes a necessary lullaby for life, and which could cure the worst insomnia. No, there’s no AC here, ever heard of a thing called sea breeze? (Please slow down with your rather intrusive questions.)
This is also my first time by the Pacific ocean. It is an alien concept for me to watch the sea (what’s the difference between ‘sea’ and ‘ocean’?) and have a water-body do nothing with the sun, since I’ve mostly lived on the western coast in India and watched plenty of sunsets on the beach growing up
. Even when I went to Pondicherry for the first time, it psyched me out that the sun rose from the water. But here I am, witnessing something new altogether, the sun and the ocean divorced from each another, both living their independent lives joyously while sharing custody of us humans. Everyone’s happy. Nice.
I don’t know where this is going.
I eased back into blogging this week after being absconding for two weeks. The two weeks I was gone I was prepping for the trip I am on right now
. So I had no headspace for any meandering thoughts; I have lots of time for it here.
Firstly, it is almost unbelievable that nearly ten days have passed since I took a flight to Mexico in the ongoing pandemic. Time flies everywhere.
Secondly, I have come to accept that I am never going to be a complete meat eater ever. I confess, I don’t enjoy eating meat
a whole lot. Although I am saddened by that—because I am denying myself many experiences, but I might be doing myself a favour in the long run—I am happy that I am not a ‘pure vegetarian’. I put pure in quotes not sarcastically—most humans I love are ‘pure vegetarians'—but to describe the typical Indian vegetarian. I am happy to not be that because of the sheer inconvenience it would bring to be one. It would tire me to travel some place far and amazing and have to constantly think about food. This has made me realise that my children ought to grow up as non-vegetarians. Hope they don’t turn around and ask me why I didn’t think of the moral and environmental implications of eating meat; I won’t even be able to blame it on my religious beliefs
On the other hand, I am very shy. I can’t speak to new people easily. I have a tough time making small talk.
I know very many vegetarians who will happily smile and mingle with any stranger they cross paths with, while I hide from everyone and do my own thing in the corner; and many a time make life really inconvenient for myself.
Then eating meat and being shy is no more advantageous than being a vegetarian who is outgoing. So in conclusion, my theory is total utter bull shite.
You win some; you lose some.
Go winsome today,
Until next time,
Air France is doing drama with my bag. I think they have lost my suitcase (full of masalas and farsan, or maybe they’ve eaten it). Girlfriend has tracked it down to Mexico City. I hope it’s actually there and they aren’t tossing the last ball of kachori from my bag into their mouth and pretending to not find it. 😒