The Beanstalk

Sometimes, I don't know what happens to me. I have gone to the same places every single day this week, always forgetting one small task, and having to go back there, despite the sun being something really fierce. And all the while, when I step in an auto or climb behind the wheel, all I can think of is, dammit, here goes my carbon footprint. Seriously.

Had to live without drinking water yesterday. As in, I forgot to fill extra bottles due to pre-occupations with various matters, before they shut the water off for some maintenance work. And as always happens, the guys who came to shampoo the couch wanted water to drink, the monster drank gallons, I swigged a fair bit too, and at the end of the day I had BUY water for the cooking. The minute the cook left, knowing how these things work, I tried the taps, and, of course...

Autos have been fun by the way. I miss my auto days. Just love talking to the drivers. Some of them are surly, some have oiled hair, some look vaguely familiar (making me wonder about moonlighting activities), some are fantastically philosophical, and yes, Mumbai auto drivers are the best since they don't randomly charge you extra. Have I told about the one that asked me how old I am, and I said thees say do kam (which is what I was then), and he said Twenty Eight bolo madam. Or the one that was 14 years old and did not know the way to the airport and assured me he had a license (how?) anyway. Or the one that talked about his, as far as I could tell, male problems, and drove me through the fierce rain wiping his tears and telling me all the while that his wife was so good to still be with him. Heck, even the one that left me, the monster, and our suitcases in the wrong terminal and we had to walk across, dragging them. And the one who could not see my glasses on the road and I had to watch and wince as a Meru Cab drove over them (how did I trust him to drive a vehicle after that display of near-blindness? Well, welcome to India). I will miss you guys.

In Mothercare yesterday for a gift voucher, auto waiting outside (nice guy), the little boy was staring us down. Whats up kid. I said. Since I have stopped being disgruntled, I have also re-discovered that I like kids and have an easy way with them.
I am four.
Good for you, wow.
How old is she?
Well, ask her yourself, won't you?
She might be five, but I am still bigger than her.
(he was definitely taller than her, heck, about my height, give or take. so that's great that a kid can say that, and surely they always say it, and he was really cute in a robust kind of way, so I just smiled).
Mother comes rushing up. HEY YOU MIGHT BE TALLER BUT YOU ARE DEFINITELY NOT BIGGER she booms from her immense height. I wanted to crack jokes about which of US was bigger, older, smarter. But hey, my auto was outside, and my little, bad-mouthed Zen (also standing no chance of being bigger than anything in the world), has sprouted wings and gone, to my sister.