Kauvva bole Cow Cow

For the first time, I woke up on a Saturday morning in my apartment here.

Hangover. No electricity. No geyser, no tea over the electric stove. Sigh.

What!!! No cigarettes! Horror!

Bundled up in the rajai and watched Evan Almighty. Disappointed.

A walk to the market. A new stray way. With boughs bowing over, puddles and broken bottles, and the dry sandy dust of Gurgaon.

Morning of Delhi December - a lazy cool zephyr and the fog yawning, rolling its mattress and leaving.

Got some ham, a couple of samosas but still not tea.

As I walked back stopped by a small tea shack. Asked him to make fresh tea for me without the mandatory half cupfulof sugar as the Jats here like it.

A cow wanders along and eyes my samosa in the plaintive and demanding fashion of a.. a.. cow. I throw the samosa to her and it breaks - steam pouring out of the hot aaloo inside. A dog makes a tentative and timid go but the cow looks up to him like - "Get along, buster!" and the dog slinkers off.

The cow has a mouthful and then drops it off the mouth. The interior is so hot that she licks the tongue on her nose, airs it and even puts it against a steel post nearby. Has another mouthful, this time whales it down but still does the tongue dance.

I get up, pay the three bucks and walk back.


Happy to be alive.
Happy to be where I am.
Happy to be what I am.

Song: Free falling.