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  • Writer's pictureVoita

Parting (APd14)

Updated: Sep 5, 2023

Consider this hypothetic message and equally hypothetic response.

I love you babe ❤️💛💋❤️

Yes I love you too.

Wouldn't you freak out, seeing your partner in someone's else embrace in that very minute? The differences in a manner of speech, obvious in real life, wiggle their way into the virtual world too.

that's how Italians must feel talking to

Germans every time

the Germans wouldn't find that funny

My point being that I did not get to see Katon again. He knew I'm trying to catch up with him, to say good bye, and went home instead, passing me somewhere on the road. Send a message in the evening. Full of dots. No emojis. My relative is OK. Good luck Voita. He didn't sound German in person, but his virtual persona sure feels like it.

good bye ... / Kabom seeing me off

caged again

And that was the end of my visit to Arunachal and the north-east of India.

done with the monsooooooon!!!

Forgot my bag's rainproof jacket in the house, coincidentally. Perhaps as a form of celebration?

looking back at the mountains (...)

mid-squish views

Quite the step down: from a ginormous, black 4x4 to a mini-bus the size of Prius, holding a dozen men and one despairing woman. In these moments I can't help but think that Pakistanis and other Muslim countries do their ladies a service by reserving a row for them, no matter how crowded the vehicle. Sure, their logic might be discriminatory in predetermining that men can't hold it in their pants, but let's face it - India has a running reputation as a country where guys fail their adulthood checks even more often than Japanese commuters, and that's a league of its own altogether.

Having said that, I did not enjoy a guy who sat opposite to me, teeth blackened with paan, leaning right into my face, with his two massive palms laid on my knees, one bit.

It's in our blood and nothing short of brain washing can change that. Indians thrive in crowds and feeling three other sweaty bodies pressing against theirs gives them a feeling of security. My kin gets a rash.

where'd all the colours go ... ? the druggist.

The highlight of the trip is crossing Brahmaputra - the river of three names - right before Dibrugarh, from where I fly out tomorrow. The 5 miles long bridge is one of the local IG hotspots, with cars and buses parked left and right. But the river is majestic and even with colourless sky draws your eyes in.

I knew I shoulda been charging for them selfies!

all inclusive - most of all, mosquitoes

One more futile afternoon of searching for postcards, but only liquor stores and pharmacies are open on Sundays. The new temples of the modern men. Hindu street shrines and Muslim mosques blend in, struggling for the privilege to bring peace into the citizens' hearts. I find my peace in another hotel - only backpackers hostels accept foreigners into dorms, typical hotels won't let me check-in to those - get a pizza to celebrate the End of Thali diet - I don't mind, but it does get old after two weeks of Thalis back to back every day - and spend the evening by impishly luring mosquitoes into the room and smearing their bodies all over the room's walls. From the looks of them, I'm definitely not the first occupant to pick bloodbath as their evening entertainment. I'm on a roll and put down good few dozen skeeters before calling it a night.

a 'good-bye, monsoon' in style

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