My father happens to go to The Bank of India, Parliament Street quite often...and when he does, I'm usually dragged along...and while he does all the works and chit-chats with everybody around (he took VRS from the bank quite a few years back to devote himself to coaching cricket...so yea the people there 'know' him), I'm left gazing at the monotony, long queues, tension and the 'office-ness' of the environment, typical-ed with grey walls and glass counters and then after boring myself to death, when he is done, we push off to NDMC (New Delhi Municipal Corporation...u would wonder 'why', exactly we would do that but I'm talking about the little old food stalls that they've set up ...we get quite nice south indian food there...) or we chill at CP (connaught place...yes, the white horse-shoe shaped office Britishers left us that is now converted to a market...and its hot!).
But this time, I happened to be carrying my sketchbook with me. As effortless one-liner sketches filled up the last empty sheet of my sketchbook, I couldn't help but smile with contentment. So...guess who wasn't really bored; AND we went to NDMC; AND i hogged on some nice sausages when i got back home!
*sigh*
life's good...
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