Sunday, October 16, 2011

Boundaries

To Punjaban. To everything platonic. To Plato. To gin and tonic. To fraud sardarni, Amrita Pritam and Grace Slick. To Jasbir.  

I've moved.

I am no longer a citizen of Chandigarh.

A striking impression I leave with is how the people here are like ostriches. They've dug a giant hole in the ground and stuck their heads into it, conveniently assuming that nobody can see them. Only, the hole is called Chandigarh and their version of the world is not the same as yours or mine.

This is their world.



Punjaban once asked if there was a song or verse that I thought could sum up the people here. I had to wait till boarding my last flight out before I could think of one.

Don't see what I do not want to see,
you don't hear what I don't say.
Won't be what I don't want to be,
I continue in my way. 
- A Song for Jeffrey, Jethro Tull

Surprisingly enough, I would not be completely opposed to the idea of a trip back. 

In a while. 

Give it say, ten years.

P.S. JA - thanks for converting my in-flight art into the sheer brilliance that is the map.