Take me home, country roads

The best thing about living away from home is going back home. For the first time in the history of me, I was actually happy to feel the slight nip in the air that indicates arrival of the terrible Delhi winters. You see, this nip is really nice but what it brings with it is to be dreaded. So.

Went home for three days and had a blast. Met up with friends and family and ate a lot of food. Diwali celebrations were just like I used to describe in my class three essay back in school; I wore new clothes, lit diyas, did pooja, ate sweets, greeted the neighbors, and lit pholjadhis. Picture Perfect.

But not everything is perfect in this world; if it were, I would have got to watch the entertainer called Om Shanti Om instead of the bootless Sawariyan! The movie was terribly blue, full of needless songs and needless prostitutes, and utterly futile in every possible sense. The new kids are okay though; both should be able to do well for themselves if they select movies for the material rather than over-hyped directors.

However, I did not let the uselessness of the movie depress me for long and decided to meet up with my newly married friends over a lunch of sizzlers. They told us tales of their adventurous honeymoon and also flaunted their bruises as a proof. The timing of being in Delhi was perfect and allowed me to wish another friend a happy married life. Why is the whole world and their friends getting married this very year, though?! Anyhow, I also got to eat a gala birthday dinner, complete with dilli ki chaat. Yum.

Then, I got my very first birthday present that a friend picked up from Agra. No, it is not a replica of the Taj Mahal. More north Indian food was had and I returned back this morning via a non-delayed flight. Awesome. And a pink train. Awesome-r.


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