There is a stream at the back of our house in Ooty. The backdoor opens to it. A stream, which not long before, was made of clear water. It is now a drain. Thankfully it doesn’t smell too bad though it looks like it has things floating on it.
When I light up my first cigarette of the day, I open the backdoor, watch the stream and the buildings looking on to it. It is cold and I am thankful of what I am smoking; though it is killing me slowly.
I wake up late and make my way to the Internet café. After a cup of coffee, I am refreshed and soon begin to read, and with some difficulty, write. I am so grateful that the café is so close to my home though I spend a fortune on it. We haven’t hooked up the computer or the TV.
Our house is close to Ooty’s nerve centre, Charing Cross. We went shopping yesterday. We picked a sweater, a woolen cloth cap and a pair of gloves.
My wife is into pizzas. So we went to Dominos two days ago. We have also been to Subway. We are slowly ticking restaurants off our list. The good thing about chains is that you get what you expect.
I am thinking of looking around Ooty on Sunday. May be I will have more to write.