Home Alone
Home Alone: There is something charming about the dual life that some of us live, and simultaneously there is something acutely melancholic. The confusion about the place is continuously evocative. A lovely evening with the dog, walking down a street that many would consider a "holiday getaway" with the constant reminder that the other place is alive with the sounds of the evening, the cars driving by, or the imminent arrival of the groom at the marriage hall across the street. The comfort of refusing the tea at 5:30 in the evening at the local market and driving off with people who will never judge you to another market to get the better tea and the samosa fried in front of you while the taste of the succulent Easter ham hangs at the back of your tongue. That is the dual life. Where each moment reminds us of the other, and the joy of the moment is interrupted by the melancholy of what could have been - opportunity cost. The banter over tea about the neighborhood girl who non...