Somedays, I feel this deep urge to leave this city. I do not want to go that far too. I cannot imagine myself living in Normandy or Nairobi. I think somewhere in between should do – perhaps Muscat or Phnom Penh. Maybe even Chengdu or Varanasi.
What will I do in my to-be-home city? I don’t know. I will find my way to the fridge, then pop open a pepsi, sip on it, and watch the sun set. I will go outside and eat whatever the local version of panipuri exists there. It really is not that complicated.
No, I mean what kind of job will you get? I don’t know. Teach something. Or learn something and then teach something. There is always a way. If you do not believe there is a way, then there is no way. If you do believe there is a way, there might be a way. I choose to be the latter type of person.
What about Chunni the Cat? For Allah’s sake. Chunni is a cat. Cats can live like cats and, like, really live. If you are so concerned about Chunni the Cat, you can be one of those entrepreneur types who think of new ideas and figure out how to create a marketable supply chain for cat food for cats that have been left behind by neighborhood people who used to feed them.
Stop shouting at me. Why are you so angry? Well, why are you not angry? Here, eat some grapes.