midnight posting

Just got back home in the middle of a kalony power cut. Everything was dark, gloomy and quite dangerous-looking to paranoid, alone me. I was also carrying two loaves of bread, Nanda Devi by Eric Shipton, a creeper ready for planting, my useless handbag, and my house keys. Had to drop everything else on the ground, while trying to get the keys to work in the lock - they are these weird 3-d uncopyables, but also a real pain to align in the lock, in the dark. Thankfully I made it into the house, without encountering rapists, burglars or serial killers. In Delhi one man can usually be all three , if the newspapers are to be believed, and if the general expression on the faces of men in Delhi is anything to go by.
So the frequent power cuts tell me that summer is here, and now that the bijli is back at half-past midnight, my ac is also on. I think if I ever emigrate to some paradisiacal (yes I know there is no such word, but still) mountain country, I might even be nostalgic about all this. Who knows. It feels like home.

summer news

The Delhi summer has begun, but I have yet to

i) turn on the ac

ii) get stuck for a couple of hours on the BRT at one in the afternoon

iii) start eating only ice-cream for lunch

All of this is coming up, though. The ac is not yet required in my cool, cool house (but we're getting there. I give it another two days, at most). I begin a new job this Monday, and I can just see that revolting BRT at Chirag Dilli waiting for me at 9.20 am, with the heat shimmer already beginning to float off the ground. And. Ice-cream only for lunch is my only summer binge-ing. So I allow myself this in advance, even though I have a goal to lose six kilos this year.

By the way, I wonder if anyone has noticed that just as thela ice-cream is no longer what it used to be (it's better now), neither is the famous Delhi summer! Where is the loo, the sweeping hot wind that blew all afternoon, withering everything in its path? Where are the gigantic water coolers, fitted with khus sheets, that used to make those endless afternoons cool and sleepy? Ay, where are they? Anybody know? Most people with means have split acs these days, as far as I can make out.

the aforementioned

Cham Cham is a friendly and lovable ginger stray who eats here twice a day. As of now, he and his rather ugly black girlfriend have been scoffing the best Pedigree chum dog food (cheaper than cat food) but they seem to be getting bored. After they turned up their noses at the last meal, Sanjana said "They're saying kya hum angrez hain?"

cham cham loses a mouse

Yesterday afternoon, just as I was setting out on a walk around the park, I saw Cham Cham pounce and grab a wee timorous beastie of a mouse who let out one last squeak of true despair. This happened in my front patch and I saw it through the jaali of the front door, stifling my own squeak of horror at this evidence of Cham Cham's residual tigerish genes. Then, not unlike his more magnificient jungli cousins, Cham Cham plodded off to the side, with the (presumably dead) mouse gently clutched in his mouth. But all was not over yet.
When he dropped the fella for the feast to follow, the mouse scampered off under the small raddi cupboard for newspapers. Cham Cham squeezed in after him, tail slashing, paw swiping, waving his ginger balls in the air. This went on for a bit, with me watching from a side window and not daring to step out. Suddenly, the mouse scarpered - off! Gone, and Cham Cham didn't even know. Kept trying to claw him out from under the cupboard. Finally gave up. I stepped out, and the poor fellow looked at me and began a plaintive lament, walking back and forth between me and the cupboard, quite clearly saying waaah. While I rejoiced for the mouse, I also told Cham Cham sternly: "you're a dodo." And left for my walk.