The swallows are returning home. They are in such a large flock that you cannot miss them. The sky is a beautiful orange today. And I love that crimson glow reflecting on my doors and windows, walls and glasses and the streaks that fill my flooring. For a moment, the house is filled with such loving warmth and vibrant colours. In a moment, it will all be gone . Reminds me of some friendships that I had made in this city. I love the twilight hour - there is something so melancholic and yet so beautiful about it.
I have been on a writing spree. My day begins and ends with deadlines. I can hear the weird noises from upstairs. The maid is trying to be too friendly. My mother has just given her a saree for Ugadi but she says its not from me. Suddenly she asks me if Madras and Chennai are the same. I tell her yes. Then she asks me if Karnataka and Bangalore are the same. I try explaining the difference. She does not understand. I draw concentric circles to explain concepts of continents, countries, states and cities. She pretends to understand. Says her son is annoyed with her ignorance. I don't have a globe - so I show her the atlas. She says she has heard of America and it is very far away. I show her America on the map. She wonders if that is how the world looks . I explain its a circle. She gives me a blank look. She sees America again on the map. Almost every household that she works for has someone living or studying there . But she has not heard of India. I ask her which country we live in. She says Bharath. And then suddenly she gets up and prepares to go to the next house . It is her fourth from morning . She drinks some tea and eats a dosa, collects the money for the milk that she bought me and moves on. That is her world - not the one on globes and atlases.