I reached office listening to the radio. It played, "I believe I can fly.."
What if I could? With all that flight sickness I have! I would be flying around with a ton of air sickness bags. Ewww.
I am no good at the sea either. In fact, any mode of transportation, extending beyond a few hours at a stretch, leaves me bundled up in one corner with a pale face. This is so ironic because I love to see places. I love seeings new places, new things, finding beauty in the simplest of things.
My stomach; hates me for this liking of mine. I am the kinds who can spin into bouts of retching at the sight of an unhygienic place. Leave alone touching the food there. But then again, I love food. I love trying new dishes. I envy people who have the tummy of a stone crusher and relish even the road-side chat.
This is absolute Irony. Its like your favorite piece of cake falling down face first. Or, the last nut in the bag turning out to be stale. Or, the electricity going away just when you gather your lazy bones to iron your weekly quota of clothes. Or, the only shoe you loved in the shop of thousands, not having your size.
I have been onto novels now for a little while. I guess its because although I cribbed and whined about doing my MBA, it has sort of got me used to reading before I go to sleep. ;)
Suchitra has been my library. Right now, I am reading, "Eat, Pray, Love".
Beauty. Love. Desire. Realization. You can't stop thinking of these if you ever get to read this. I have never been the novel-reading kinds. Those who know me well, will swear by that fact. And guess what, as I proceeded in the novel, I see the novelist say the same things as me, she's a traveler with a constitution as weak as of a premature fetus. But, she travels.
I suddenly feel good about myself. I keep the book aside and sleep with a smile.