250 sq. ft.

I vow to never ever live in a hole ever again. Once I move out of this place that is. Not that its bad. I pay through my nose for it. And frequent trips home only accentuate the smallness of my place. And the bitch is... that it doesn't let you forget how small it is.

Firstly, one can work, cook and use the loo.. in one straight and not so long line. Secondly, its like living inside the kitchen of every damn neighbour of mine. I can smell each and every thing they make... ALL the time. In fact, I suspect the wife of Mr. Enfield Rebello (or so I think he ought to be called) is Tamilian. Whenever she cooks, I get hungry. Thirdly, Enfield himself is a pain in the ass. Waking up to Akon every morning, coming home to Akon every evening... and sometimes Akon WITH the smell of curry leaves and 'kootu' is incredibly distressing. Appa and amma used to make fun of Hip Hop and Rap, and I laughed but never got why. Until yesterday. That guy literally sounds like is he standing outside my 3rd block house asking for alms!!

And lastly, new relationships can be strenuous. My neighbour brought in 4 goats for Id. Not 1 or 2... 4. And they all look the same. Actually... maybe it was just one. Anyway.... all of em tied outside their house... at different places at different points of time. And whenever I walk by, the goat(s) talk to me. Not kidding. They talk to me! They munch on their dust ridden food... and they talk to me. They follow me with their eyes whenever I walk past them. And there is something about the time lag between my movement and their eyes.... this weird staccato-ey following which just creeps me out. Not to mention their impending fate, their ignorance on the matter and well, my knowledge of the same.

Of course, my discomfort didn't last long. :(