Weekend Excursion

The temperature is soaring at 45 degrees, hope this snowman picture brings some relief..

Last weekend on Sunday, I finally managed to go on outing- to Reliance Fresh for Grocery shopping.. 😀

  • Maggi Pasta was not available,
  • So wasn’t the Britannia Big Cakes,
  • So wasn’t the BRU Instant Coffee Mix,
  • Or even MDH or Catch Turmeric..
  • Not even the Boro Plus Lotion
  • Or the Dove (Peach) Hair Rinse

I picked up whatever little things I could. I went to the counter and after a wait of 20 minutes; I gladly placed my packets at the payment counter. The service guys are all from Dinosaur era.. They don’t even move as much as their little finger (no puns intended); infact they don’t move themselves at all. To save on time since I had to go to some other shop to find out the left over things, I didn’t hesitate to place the things on my own. 543/- odd was the total, so now you know what all I had bought (or could not buy). Now, is the amazing part- this counter guy lifts his finger- the index one and his thumb too (!!), takes them to his mouth, dabs on some saliva and opens the Reliance poly carry- bag to place my items (arrrghhh, eauh, gross !#$@$!)

Clearly, he wasn’t bothered about my sanity or my virtue of getting un- clean in the process.

The standard of Hygiene or contracting Infection, all the dos and don’t of caution- precaution, went for a toss. I picked up the carry bags and came home. I sat in the car as if was supposedly an untouchable. I passed all the packets to my domestic to wash under running water; which I anyways do, even otherwise- as soon as I entered my house. Not touching even the door- knobs, I disappeared for a ritualistic cleansing process (read: shower), muttering all the while of such an uncouth behavior. My cell phone enjoyed a dis- infectant wash. It was then, that I recalled of why mom used to be so finicky to eat food from outside vendors. She would often tell me that these Go- Gappa hawkers blow their noses with same hand and then serve you those spicy water balls (gross-ly gross).. I often thought that she had wanted to discourage the development of my connoisseur taste buds; but realized only now that how right she was.

I have become an old freaky woman I guess- that’s the only understandable expression I have for myself- but then, that’s how I have always been. So Fine, I guess that I have always been a oh-so-finicky hag..

Well, I did go out in the evening today, came back at 10pm.. Earlier thought of squeezing my outing here in this post; but now since I have so much to include, it would definitely have to be a different post. For now, it’s been over 24 hours that it’s been “storming” and enormous “winding”. Even though it’s very dusty outside, the temperature has definitely come down. It was a pleasure roaming around in the market; only if I had been in a better mood 😦 Rain is what is drastically required now, it’s becoming more like desert here; parched summers with sand- storms and severe chills and drought in winter; spring almost “lost in transition”. We could have done with few Tansens here, all of them could sing Raag Megh Malhaar altogether for the absolute (not the vodka) effect; and that’s on a serious note.

The songs I heard while on my way to SN and back, how my Blood was feasted upon by minions and what all I observed in the market, alongwith my memories’ track back to the time gone by long back.. And what all I shopped; would have to pause themselves in the ether for me to collect them and collate in my next post.

It is torturous to sit in a room without air conditioner; I just somehow managed to watch Uttaran and Balika Vadhu.

My legs are aching; I went out and walked after over 4 months. I had only spent 2 hours walking in the market, but as a ritual (it so seems), I had not eaten anything for the whole day before going out. Its somewhat become a trend now, co- incidence repeating itself.

A Friday has gone by; I can feel all of you have sunk in Deep WEEKEND Mood, with little relief from heat. Next is a Saturday and a whole of Sunday..

About Olivia

Corporate worker, textile designer, writer.
This entry was posted in My Biopic Log, My mind and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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