Down the road, by the market, there’s a secret garden.

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It’s Holi today. Ear-splitting Hindi music beckoned from downstairs. Unwashed, I tied my hair back, slicked coconut oil on my skin on and wrapped my camera in kitchen plastic.

Trek trek trek. Six floors downstairs. Unarmed. No powder nor gun. Just a camera. Cling wrapped.

“Miss Sacha!” Children screamed. They water sprayed me. Pelted water balloons. Slathered powder on my face. All in the spirit of fun.

Holi, festival of colors, signifies triumph of good over evil. More color wars. Pelting pelting pelting. The evil that pervades. Rainbow colors used as weapons.

Tradition attaches colors to meaning. Red is purity. Matrimony. Pink meaning nothing I can find.

Holi (for me) ended with a sweet milk drink, peppered with cardamom and pistachios.

But from my sixth floor cave, hours after a hot shower, the music plays on. To the beat of the color war.

Pelt pelt pelt.

Spontaneous dinner with K tonight in Le Pain de Quotodien. Oooohlala! I haven’t had a juicy steak in so long! I definitely want to go back to Le Pain to try out their strawberry cheesecake too.

I’ve been posting a photo about India everyday for almost two months. Today, as I walked past this shop at the Oberoi Mall, I realized that I’ve never featured a sari. (Hand clonks forehead!) Perhaps it’s because I prefer more understated colors when it comes to clothing, a.k.a. black. And also perhaps because I’ve never worn a sari, since I’m too afraid that it will fall off. Whatever the case, today, as I passed Sheetal, I couldn’t help but find these sarees pretty. Now I want to keep my eyes open and look, really look, at Indian clothing.

More airport scenes. I’m bored with my camera but still not ready to learn how to use a DSLR. So I’m experimenting with an effect called color accent, which basically means your photo is black and white, and a color that you choose. The effect is making my photos looks so much more interesting.

I love airports. I can read in airports. I can work. I can blog. I love how airports are a portal for hellos and goodbyes, a portal for open doors.

To buy or not to buy? B, where will you take me next? šŸ™‚

So crowded. Need to get away.

Thank God for the second level, an escape from the crowds.

Found a seat I could recline in.

Mad about red.

Mumbai smog.

Above the smog, the great escape.

I’ll be moving soon. In a month, I’ll be thinking about boxes and movers and items to give away. It’s sad because I’ll miss the teachers and students in OIS. But at the same time, I’m looking forward to being on the other side.