On train
3 Books. 3 People. A Train Journey 8 Hours Long. Each face buried into its own book.
Good Luck cafe, Deccan Gymkhana
In Pune, in Good Luck Cafe at Deccan Gymkhana, while waiting for bun maska and omelette and for Kalpak to arrive, one face buried itself into a book. Anjali picked up a bunch of Nancy Drew's (what did she draw?) and read them off faster than I could buy. The long walk to Crosswords was worth it
Sidewalk
Out on the sidewalk by the road, post Konkan Express, a contraption made with tissue to hold the sweet after desserts. Card tricks, contraptions, things to make in 5 minutes...constant activity. I cannot stand cards, Anjali is a natural.
Somewhere in Pune
A man with a drum on a cycle, going for a funeral perhaps (it looked like a funeral drum), riding to his destination in the heat, stopping to ask for directions, a stoic look on his face - it's life after all - one lives as well as another. A bicycle, a scooter, a car, how does it matter, we all breathe the same air, we all laugh and we all cry. There was a soft resilience, a gentleness in his eyes. Happy drumming brother.
Return journey on train
One book returned from Pune. Fabulous read. Thanks J.R. Jyothi saab and Sunil for gifting me with such an invaluable collection of books on writing.
Movies, books, walks, lunches, people. And there's still not enough time to meet them all. Until the next time then.
3 Books. 3 People. A Train Journey 8 Hours Long. Each face buried into its own book.
Good Luck cafe, Deccan Gymkhana
In Pune, in Good Luck Cafe at Deccan Gymkhana, while waiting for bun maska and omelette and for Kalpak to arrive, one face buried itself into a book. Anjali picked up a bunch of Nancy Drew's (what did she draw?) and read them off faster than I could buy. The long walk to Crosswords was worth it
Sidewalk
Out on the sidewalk by the road, post Konkan Express, a contraption made with tissue to hold the sweet after desserts. Card tricks, contraptions, things to make in 5 minutes...constant activity. I cannot stand cards, Anjali is a natural.
Somewhere in Pune
A man with a drum on a cycle, going for a funeral perhaps (it looked like a funeral drum), riding to his destination in the heat, stopping to ask for directions, a stoic look on his face - it's life after all - one lives as well as another. A bicycle, a scooter, a car, how does it matter, we all breathe the same air, we all laugh and we all cry. There was a soft resilience, a gentleness in his eyes. Happy drumming brother.
Return journey on train
One book returned from Pune. Fabulous read. Thanks J.R. Jyothi saab and Sunil for gifting me with such an invaluable collection of books on writing.
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