Everywhere I go, whatever I do, a speck of bright red niggles at the side of my eye.
After two weeks of blissfully ignoring my semi-unpacked suitcase and the boxes I shipped back, I finally got down to a spot of upacking this sweltering Sunday afternoon.
I would have procrastinated a lot longer if not for the fact that I am leaving for Shanghai on Thursday morning, and living out of my suitcase and cardboard boxes is out of the question. After two hours of dirty hard work, my clothes are not neatly packed away in my wardrobe but instead rumpled and stowed away back in the boxes while they await their turn in the washing machine.
I've gotten a head start by hand-washing some of the essentials, and amidst the soap suds in the toilet, I was reminded me of my laundry washing days in MICA. As much of a darling the on-campus dhobi man may be, promptness isn't his strongest quality, and really, I can't expect him to wash my lingerie can I?
So there were times, like when we returned from our last-minute Dasada trip with just one day to pack for Delhi, that I had to hone my skills of washing and drying. Squatting and scrubbing a bucketful of sandy and mud-stained clothes ain't easy on the thighs and back (and the detergent was trouble for my already-dry winter hands), but it is strangely therapeutic.
I've digressed.
I'm exhausted and now sprawled on my couch, making full-use of my newly wifi-ed house, and blatantly ignoring the uncompleted unpacking.
On Wednesday, repacking my suitcase begins. Dear me.
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