With every passing day I feel man is overtly insecure. For example no matter wherever I go and take out gustatory experiments I seem to come back to the same places. ‘Viswanath’ in Pippinmoodu, the ‘Thatt’ at Sasthamangalam, my own home and Indira Chechi’s magic and Rohit’s household as well. These places pull me back into my cozy space in space-time and food at all these places give me back the surety of life. I kind of regain an ‘I am me’ feeling that seems too important to move on in life. What more than roaming around for a week for all the right reasons, around all the right places, and then coming back home to food and friends. Did I say I like gypsies?? Man, tell me how they live? I am confused.
Today was the date to report at the Taluk office for the electoral ID card thing. I bunked it.
Screw me!
I have my own reasons but probably none that stand.
At the end of the day I will have to admit, I didn’t feel like going.
A seething disregard to the rusty establishments of my government, maybe!
People in this part of the world have their own unique stories about their ‘driving license’ dates, electoral id things and so on. Me too!
My ‘license’ story is an essay in itself, so is my first (earlier) attempt at procuring the ID thing. Let them wholly be mine and unrecorded! In the first place, who else cares??
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