I’m at Regents Park. A rather uninteresting last day in London. As usual, I seem to have spent more time travelling than actually doing anything. On Anna and Julia’s advice, I went up to Camden Town. Pretty much the place for the weirdos of the world. “Weirdos of the world, converge” was the slogan I thought most appropriate. Spiked hair in various shades of green, pink and blue. Piercings in unimaginable parts of bodies. (NB: a nipple piercing is far more painful to the eye when observed in person as opposed to the idiot box).
After dropping the keys off to my flat and an insipid lunch, in more ways than one, I trudged to Camden and then to Regents Park, which is not as enjoyable as I remembered it being last year, primarily due to the fact that it is really hot today. My shirt is absolutely soaked.
This will probably be my last blog from this country – I’ve just lost interest in going through the motions more often than I have, especially when I lead a pretty boring life in essence. My saving grace this time has been the fruitfulness of the visit, not to mention the enjoyment at work and the longish hours put in. All of which I wish I could do again.
I have also decided that the best time of the year to visit the UK is May. Hot days are entirely absent, and the cold only hits if you don’t wear two layers. So no problem and the ideal weather for me. Maybe I shall make London my summer spot just as the Sahibs made the hillstations of North India theirs.
In other news, the BJP has attacked our PM for praising British colonial rule. Anna was at the speech he made at Oxford when accepting his D.Litt, but I haven’t discussed the issue with him. This is due to my fear of being called a dimwit, which is what I shall label the BJP leaders who have come out with this press statement. All Manmohan Singh said was that the British left behind a lot of good things in terms of infrastructure et al (in a nutshell, of course). Rediff published his acceptance speech. I am too lazy to find you the link, so go hunt if you are interested.
I’ve been sitting under this tree for less than 15 minutes typing this and eating Sainsbury’s brownies and I’m already bored. This is the problem with a holiday…sometimes there’s just not enough happening. I’ve also taken very few photos this time round. The reasoning? For one, I don’t feel like it and two, I’m pretty sure I’ll remember all the things I did (at least the memorable stuff) even 50 years down the line, so what for then? Sufficient has been taken to remind me that I was here and that’s more than enough for me.
That’s about it – now I am truly bored typing this and my head has begun to wander towards the ducks and crows at the end of every sentence.
This next bit has been added a couple of days later:
John sent me this link about some insanity in the world and the lenghts to which people are willing to go to in order to kill themselves and yet not call it suicide! Let us know what you think.
Anna and I went and watched Rigoletto, by Verdi - with some seriously good seats. The Welsh National Opera were performing. It was, in a word, fantastic. La Traviatta, also by Verdi, which I caught in Bombay with amma was not a patch on this for three reasons; one, Rigoletto has a far more interesting story, two, the seats were so good that you could actually catch the actors acting and not just hear them sing and three, the protagonist was an outstanding actor unlike La Traviatta, where one just pitied the guy for several reasons.
That's it from the UK. I have a couple more social events to attend with anna before I leave early on Monday morning. I can't exactly say I want to get back to the grind that is College...and we shall just leave it at that, why don't we?
Simon & Garfunkel had other ideas:
"Every day's an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines.
And each town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories
And every stranger's face I see reminds me that I long to be,
Homeward bound."
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