But they say you change the most in your twenties, possibly growing at a rate even faster than your teens. (Not physically growing, that ship sailed for me at sixteen, and I have been the same height ever since) This decade, I have reinvented myself at least three times, and sometimes, I feel a flashback to an older me, a reaction I forgot I used to have, that just crops up in moments of vulnerability, and I'm taken aback, I'm all, "Oh, right, I used to feel like that." What happens to old personalities? Do we fold them up and put them away among mothballs? Where are the mes that used to be? Maybe, like an onion, if I kept peeling layer after layer of myself off, I'd find the original me, the me I began with. On the other hand, the me that lurks closer to the surface is who I am now, for better or for worse, my personality has formed, and it's hard to break yourself of it. Not bad habits, them I'm constantly trying to eradicate: obsessing and overthinking and needing to be in control of situations and the more obvious ones: smoking and not getting enough exercise and indulging myself too much in the finer things of life.
It's also been a year since I moved back to Delhi, and I can't say I regret that decision. I miss Bombay, I think some part of me will always miss Bombay (but I'm not saying goodbye forever, I'm just saying goodbye for now) but on the other hand, it's been a good move. I'm getting lots of work, I have a large-ish flat, I like the weather and the people I now know, and reconnecting with old friends, having standing dates with some of them, like we haven't done in years. And, as for Bombay, I have, what we'll call, a Good Thing going on right now, which means I have an excuse to go there every month. Not that I need an excuse, but still. It's nice. Said Good Thing is also nice; and when it's not happening in Bombay/Delhi, it's happening in other parts of the country or the WORLD, and that is so awesome.
Another nice side effect about moving back to Delhi which I hadn't considered in my original pro/con list was that I travelled a LOT this year. Having family here, and resources, meant that I could take off when I liked and it was just a lot easier, having someone pop by and check on the cat and the house and see that everything was running smoothly in my absence. This could've technically happened in Bombay too, but everyone's so busy there that you hate to ask your friends to drop in and see if everything's okay, and while my maid was great, I don't know if she had the work ethic to visit every. single. day while I was gone, which made me stress wherever I was. A lot of my stopovers, especially to the far flung South, were at Bombay airport, so I'd sit in the glass lounge, gazing out wistfully at the tarmac, wishing I was getting off there instead of wherever it was I was off to. Except in the monsoon season, of course. Then I was just like, "HAHA, SUCKERS!"
And now, I will leave you with some pictures from around my house, since I've turned into a homebody and haven't gone anywhere in the last two days. Okay, okay, 24 hours. But it's still a LONG time!
Picture of my liquor cabinet, that tequila bottle is about four years old now, and has had the same four shots left in it since I carted it back from Bombay. The Tia Maria behind it has become one of the things I actually drink, having recently learnt how to make White Russians. (They're good cocktails too.)
Yearned after these flowers at Khan Market the other day and a very kind friend bought us both a bunch. I always think of Mrs Dalloway when I put out fresh flowers, but having flowers is like a fancy indulgence, it always makes me feel posh and rich and adult.
That is a blackboard I bought, full of good intentions (me, ie, not the blackboard, though I'm sure if blackboards had intentions, this one would have good ones) that I'd have a to-do list up and little motivational quotes or pretty poems to look at, and yeah. I haven't updated it since I bought it. Oddly though, the haiku on it now is about flowers, and that sort of went with the flower lights across it, so at least it serves some purpose.
My plants are doing well, thank you. I've only killed three and they're under the windowsill, dead stumps in pots, but otherwise, I think that's a pretty good success rate. I like dressing up this window too, when I'm writing I gaze off to my right where all the plants are, and it helps me mull. It's one of TC's favourite spots AND I need some oxygen to fight all the cigarette smoke I put into the atmosphere. Win-win.