Loop mobile ought to be sued to the skies for dumping users. No outgoing calls from 10/11, do wtf you want. I worried,  cussed, changed phones. Previously I'd always wondered why people needed two sim cards. Duly ported after pulling a few strings.

When you have GOT to extend a tale, everything's fodder, all is fair. Names, people, places, everything is game, pick and use. Yet.

Vulnerable? Cant think of the word without thinking of you. smoke and mirrors make good telling.  one does never forget. never. everything changes and nothing does. goosebumps-wary.

One step forward and ten back. You attempt something new. You stumble. Raw skin burns--burns more as the skin peels off-- you wince. You are aghast at how little you know. You wonder about the slope, the sharp edges, the precipices ahead.  You’re equipped poorly, winging it, just your gumption. You remind yourself of places you’ve come from and places you’ve been. You plod on. You put away the thought, regretfully, of this being do or die. You plod on, there is no other choice.

Lovely, somber  temple ceremony for Bhagwati puja last week; reminder to self—learn Sri Suktam. The list grows longer. 
http://www.stephen-knapp.com/prayers_to_goddess_lakshmi.htm

For how long can one drive ahead using the reverse gear, while looking into the rear mirror? Painful + Horrible. Just realized how long- over 1 decade – I’ve been doing this. Sometimes it takes an outside nudge to remind one of one’s self worth.

GK was matter-of-fact as he shared the news. Stoic as ever.  I tried staying on somewhat even keel remembering the story of the Buddha and the mustard seed. And the story of Yudhishthir at the gates of heaven, what is the greatest lie man hides from himself.  So be it.

So many memories. GK had helped Baba with the great subcontinental move, and setting up house. I still remember being taken for a dekko to Qutub Minar and the Red Fort after that historic class 4 visit, the rest of the home visitors had left and I was still taken there in regal style. So many times we’d be asked to visit them in their grand DK quarters, but that never happened, don’t know why. That hospital visit in 2010 when Baba was ill and all of us knew he wasn’t getting any better, that very real shock at the end.  He has been a bulwark. Part of my already-crumbling support system. And now this. The least one can do is stay somewhat as stoic.

Look beneath the surface and there’s always something. Always. That graceful silver-haired lady I complimented (this morning at the park) on having the gumption to dump hair color? Turned out she’s a backpacker, just a few years older than I am.  Back from Tawang. Off to Bhutan. And a survivor post-deep personal loss (We traded stories, this is my scab, what's yours?) Is the freedom to travel-- footloose, fancy free, pack on back and song on lip—a perk that has to be earned? Do we travel because we have to, or simply travel because we can?