Choco-nut cookies

I have suddenly become this deep philosophical woman who in her spare time has to think about where to dry her only set of home clothes and also whether its better to buy detergent cake or powder, thinking about it from the washer-woman's point of view. I also have to think about what to have for breakfast/lunch/supper. I mean not in the way I would have thought about it had I been in Calcutta. There, it was a matter of what I should suggest my mother to make. Here, it is more like whether to eat Good day biscuits or stale chapatis from the Dabba of last night or just skip breakfast all together.

I end up with Good Day biscuits on the train.

but I am LOVING it. I repeat, I am loving it.
The freedom of it all. To be able to wake up at whatever time and not bother about making the bed. To be able to skip breakfast and lunch and not feel guilty about it and/or to be busy enough to not even feel hungry. To be out every single day and not have to account for it at the end of the day. To roam around on my own with no definite rhyme or reason, definite plans or direction whatsoever. To travel by train every single day. To be lost among a horde of people in a crowded station and have zero possibilities of running into someone I know. To be be traveling on my own, taking care of myself, holding on properly while standing near the door, knowing and being fully aware of exactly what its going to be like if I fall out of the train. To memorize the names of the stations and try playing the guessing game as to which side the platform will come.

And today, I got lost! I had to go to some Feroz Shah Mehta road and had NO idea whatsoever how to go there. so I decided to cab it from Churchgate. No cabs were ready to go, the drivers pointing here, there, everywhere, some where as baffled as I was when I told them where I wanted to go. So I decided to chuck it all. I started walking wherever I felt like walking. I started walking up to the prettiest of buildings,smelling the architecture looking at all things around, the sugarcane juice wallahs, the lottery ticket sellers, the junk food stalls, The mobile repair shops the Irani Cafes,the second-hand street book shops as if I was born just today.

Then I made eye-contact with this cab driver who had that look. That "I-can-see-that-you're-lost" look that particular cab-drivers have at particular times. So this particular time, I came back to reality and realized I HAVE to go to Feroz shah Mehta road at any cost. So I asked him the way. He explained it to me and I asked him to take me there. Once inside, I told him I was lost. He "tch-tch" ed kindly and very forthrightly started spelling out the directions as he drove. So if he had to take a left, he would SAY it before turning left.
He charged me just ten bucks instead of thirteen.