Dear friend,
I wish you a happy Diwali—crackers or not, whatever way you celebrated it. To each their own. Whatever floats your boat. One man’s meat is another man’s freedom fighter.
I have nothing to say this week.
I visited half a dozen wineries. Drank a little too much wine. I liked it. Didn’t act like a know-it-all, because, you know, I was at a winery; there were actual know-it-alls.
Fruit forward, tannin backward, Oaky sideways.
Got a haircut that doesn’t quite look like one.
Posted on Instagram a bunch. Recorded a cover video and didn’t post it because I sound terrible. Cleaned the house as if it were… Diwali. Had Kingfisher for the first time in three months. OH HO. Stuffed myself with greasy bhindi masala and terrible naan and such, on the prosperous ocassion of the festival. Gave myself the gift of a humidifier (driest winter I’ve ever experienced). Felt adventurous and sat outside in 4 degree celsius weather at a restaurant. It was… cold.
Saw frost (frozen dew) for the first time; I am
so close to witnessing snow. I hope the winter Gods do the needful so I can have an
Eternal Sunshine moment with my girlfriend. (Only the poster, not the film.)
Every so often, life becomes a movie that you sit back and watch, while letting go of your illusory control.
I’ll be back next week with updates.
I hope you have a good Diwali.
Warmly,
Sumeru
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