I just don't want to go back. I'm cooped up at home in Bombay, I've left the house only on five occasions, all to go to the doctor. But I don't want to go back to Delhi.
I've developed this alarming fear of suitcases. The thought of packing makes me break into a sweat. I am absolutely TIRED of packing and unpacking and then packing. I cannot live out of a suitcase anymore. What makes this worse is the underlying knowledge that it's not a two month Orissa adventure but a two year committment that I voluntarily made.
I don't find the time to get out of campus, and now, after one month of not attending class, it's very unlikely I'll find time for ANYTHING other than those books. Visual art is frankly freaking me out. I still haven't got over that failing the drawing exam block. In those classes I feel like a kindergarten tot trying to give the Class 12 exams. Everything flies a mile above my head. No, two miles.
And I know school is great, so I don't want to leave the course and come back. I'm enjoying what I do there. I'm having a ball. But I just cannot stand leaving Bombay. Maybe it's just that I don't have a place to live and that I don't know where I'll go when I go back to Delhi. I hope the PG thing I'm trying to arrange works out. I never thought I would have a househunting story. But now I have some very bitter memories of the whole process. It is just so draining - the fact that you don't know when the roof above your head is going to collapse. Or worse, snatched away.
And I actually thought everything was going so great till I was rudely jolted out of my reverie. In any case, I have to go back in five days, and I hate that. I never knew I'd want to cry for a city. Now I know.