|Skies of blue|
I only moved two lanes but it feels like I shifted neighbourhoods. I was in the Punjabi section of Nizamuddin West and now I'm in the midst of the Muslim lanes, a mosque behind my house calls out the azaan regularly, filling the house with its melancholy sounds ("are you outside?" ask my friends). The names of people I meet have changed. Downstairs, the 29 year old girl with three children helps me with putting in the pipe for my gas stove, all the while in head-to-toe black, her headscarf never slipping, while her small son picks up each fridge magnet and replaces it, then inspects the house with a grave look upon his face. It's a smaller house but it's a solid house, I can't hear their sounds and they can't hear mine. We smile when we pass each other on the stairwell. I have neighbours now, but even better, I have one, two, THREE attached bathrooms and that makes everything worth it.
Plus, these blue and gold arches. Aren't they pretty? Hi, new house.
|Messy drawing and dining room|