It's been a week since we moved into the apartment with the much promised view. Before we moved, I knew I'd have to wait for the internet connection. But I didn't know the wait would be so agonizing. I tried not to think about it too much. And delved heads-on into full time domesticity; putting the clothes to wash, putting them out to dry, cooking, shopping for groceries, shopping for some basic utensils that were missing from the kitchen, washing vessels, etc. There was also some reading to do, watching old Friends series and other random stuff, and the lovely walk along the pier.
During most of the sprees, when I tell people I am Indian (they ask), there is a look of genuine surprise on their wrinkled faces. I think they find the concept foreign. Why would some one all the way from India come here? So I tell them. And they seem satisfied. One gentleman asked if I was 'pure Indian'. I told him that yes, indeed I was, as pure as they come! He doubted it. He said, "You are fair. Aren't Indians darker?" I told him that it depends, and got out of there before I was forced to explain caste and creed, religion, the geopolitics of centuries old migration and the not so older ones.
There is always something waiting to happen every time I go out for a walk. The other day, a young Algerian man asked for my number and I had to politely refuse. Algerians are fascinated with Bollywood and that is there one point of reference when we tell them we are Indians. The day before, an older man from Montreal, in town on business, asked where Vieux Port was. I told him where and answered a few questions about what he can do on a free evening. Yesterday, the violinist had set shop along the pier. I was so happy to see him! I continued to walk and chanced upon a handsome Prince Harry lookalike in Irish attire playing the bagpipe. (Did you know they are called Uilleann pipes. I didn't until I checked Wiki.)
This view isn't exactly ours. But I am glad I will be privy to it for some time to come.
During most of the sprees, when I tell people I am Indian (they ask), there is a look of genuine surprise on their wrinkled faces. I think they find the concept foreign. Why would some one all the way from India come here? So I tell them. And they seem satisfied. One gentleman asked if I was 'pure Indian'. I told him that yes, indeed I was, as pure as they come! He doubted it. He said, "You are fair. Aren't Indians darker?" I told him that it depends, and got out of there before I was forced to explain caste and creed, religion, the geopolitics of centuries old migration and the not so older ones.
There is always something waiting to happen every time I go out for a walk. The other day, a young Algerian man asked for my number and I had to politely refuse. Algerians are fascinated with Bollywood and that is there one point of reference when we tell them we are Indians. The day before, an older man from Montreal, in town on business, asked where Vieux Port was. I told him where and answered a few questions about what he can do on a free evening. Yesterday, the violinist had set shop along the pier. I was so happy to see him! I continued to walk and chanced upon a handsome Prince Harry lookalike in Irish attire playing the bagpipe. (Did you know they are called Uilleann pipes. I didn't until I checked Wiki.)
The view from our window changes as the day unfolds. I haven't gotten around to catching an early morning one, yet. The cathedral that you see is Notre-Dame de la Garde, which we visited last weekend.
2 comments:
Amazing view !!! :)
Aarti, thank you for so diligently reading about the mundane stuff I put here to merely pass my time! :)
Post a Comment