Miscellaneous

Indian food after a long time. Bhindi subji and roti. MTR. Have been rinsing myself with chocolate milk concentrate and stuffing my mouth with chocolates after getting the Taste of India. The taste of India is very very spicy and hot! Not after a regular diet of bland spagettis and pastas and macaronis. I breathe fire.

Salman Rushdie under the apple tree. No an apple didn’t fall. The chance discovery that one month is enough for flowers to turn fruits. So fields of strawberries will be sabotaged by my illegal hands. Soon!

Dachau: I have to thank a few missing persons for Dachau. And a bad phone network. And high call charges :-P

So contrary to all my plans of going back from the “amazingly beautiful, fairy tale” castle, and I have to thank mad kings for that, I not only stayed back, but spent my weekend the usual way. Trains, travelling, clicking.

And mad dictators.

The right way to see Dachau would be on a cloudy day, a bit chilly, and barefoot. Barefoot because it’s santified. Long after I am back from there, I feel the uncanny rush. There is nothing there now, except absence. The bare grounds, the crisp sunny wind, the shadows of the tall tress, the empty bunkers and the fresh gravel. How could I miss the stench, blowing from a 60 year past!

Like a magnet, it has clutched its rusted past. One scar that will never change the history of the place. One scar that made history, defined it irrespective of what that place was before history happened for it. And the scar is unhealed, never to be healed.

Leave Dachau.

Every weekend I drag heavy thoughts pulling me back to something. Something I have left behind. Something not right, but maybe that’s what I am. Not right. Something I should have done this summer, which I had promised myself and I feel I have forgotten that promise and the time has ticked away. Far away.

22. The wrong way to begin it. Which hints that right things will happen:) I am an optimistic fool!