My little corner of Mumbai

Like a lot of people, my family has lived in the same "flat" in mumbai for fifty years. Generations and celebrations all took place there. it's also our little corner in a busy fast moving city.

a place I know well, I know the best bhel puri wala and the best time to hear the waves lap. I realized just how well when even after years of being gone, every visit store keepers world recognize me, and I could fall into the easy routine I grew up in.

it's the home I grew up in, the home all my happy memories are in. I can rarely think of bad things that happened there.

my parents are thinking of moving and have a perfect candidate. logically I know the new flat is better yet I can't adjust to the idea of not calling my little corner of mumbai home anymore.

Lesson in volatile

I clearly remember a time in third grade, it was the last day to turn in a permission slip for a picnic.I was.really excited about going but I forgot my slip at home.

I didn't like my teacher specially when she said everyone but me could go.

my point? that was one of the first times I remember feeling helpless and desperate. I realy wanted something and it was now out of my reach. I remember.....

this month was my last chance to become pregnant, maybe stay pregnant before the damn myomectomy. I realized the last few days have been drenched in the same dreadful feeling of helplessness and rising desperation.

there is something abour this surgery that I cannot reconcile with. the logical side of me knows its good for me but the rest of me dreads it. its not my first rodeo, not my first surgery then why does this affect me so?

you take the desperation to become pregnant, you add the helplessness at not being able to, stir it with dread over the surgery and sprinkle some  unspoken pressure leaving you with a very volatile version of yourself.