It All Evens Out in the End

Summer and the monsoons are almost a memory. After the over sized orange full moon we had this month, it is finally cool enough to sleep with windows open once again. Delhi will turn wonderfully chilly then cold and summer's swelter will be forgotten. Trees are green and with the exit of the rains, their leaves will once again be gray with Delhi dust.

This is my second summer in Delhi, with days much milder than last year's convection oven days. But the summer annoyances indigenous to perhaps the whole of India were ever present. There were days I walked through Basant Lok swatting the hordes of flies that flew in my path as I did my dinner shopping. I cursed at the flies, breathe deeply in disgust, breathe out the fowl air in more disgust, wiped my sweating brow and just hated the moment. Yet, I looked behind me and following me was a boy carrying my groceries. And ahead, there was Ambrose waiting in the car ready to take Madam home. Life can be both fair and unfair in extremes.

I am calloused to many things Indian now. I no longer hear the foreign music blaring in the market. I no longer smell the greasy cooking in roadside dhabas. I no longer see the stark need in beggar's eyes. Cows napping on main roads no longer interest me. I ignore potholes, kamikaze cyclists, three-wheelers, motorcycles dangerously carrying a family of five. I no longer expect sanity on the roads and leave Ambrose to navigate as best he can. Mary Poppins does not exist, or if she does, she doesn't live in Delhi. Hijiras no longer grip me with fear. Turbans, beards, kurtas, dupattas are everyday to me. I accept dusty shoes as inevitable. I sidestep annoying rain puddles adroitly. The unexpected never surprises me.

I have learned secrets for survival. In my blackberry are now magic phone numbers that make life in Delhi sweet.

Mr. Raman will gently encourage me to keep my knees straighter, stretch just a little bit more, inhale and exhale the proper way, empty my mind of all thoughts, relax~all in an hour's yoga session. He will come to my house at 630 in the morning and David and I will have no excuse to skip yoga.

With strong and deft fingers Raghuvesh, our acupressure guy comes and works on my feet to magically ease my niggling back and shoulder pains. With David, he works equal if different magic.

If I ever want a book to read but can't be bothered to leave home, I call the local bookshop and for IR50, they will deliver the desired book to my doorstep.

For now, at least for now, my household is a well-oiled machine. Rosy, Mr. Lal, Ambrose, Raju, Survesh, Subhash, each at their own task keep things going smoothly. There are no guarantees of permanence but I have learned to enjoy the moment and have ceased to worry about the imminent.

The eternal student, I fill my time with photography, Spanish, and even salsa classes! And there is lots of time on the tennis court as well. So you tell me, doesn't it all even out in the end?