This is not helping. Looking at facebook n typing a blog. I need to get it out. Writing has gone back to paper. I seem to connect more that way. It just happened that the other day Dylan asked me why I hadn't written here, so I thought of doing this again. And then am flooded with things to write about. I know i have to continue with my French account. But then i have to do that sometime later, I guess.

To say about coming home... It's been exactly 2 months that I'm here. Had thought I would be back, settle into a nice job. Have loads of fun with friends. Go for movies. Some trips to the beach. Catch up on loads of news. And feast on Goan food.

Well none of that happened. At least not in the magnitude expected. Met friends, yes. But also realized that life is stranger than I last thought it strange. People seem closer when you are far away. Or is it me? loneliness strikes you right in the middle of a crowd. This music from pearl harbor, hauntingly beautiful, is not helping at all. And now the tone i had set aside, again is eating into me.

Had thought about being a teacher. Teaching is a vocation. And I think I really have it. Never feel happier than when I am in a class reading out a lesson to a class of 12 year olds. Trying my best to make it interesting to them. And then they laugh at my jokes. Listen to my explanations giving their own suggestions. And then of course there are those questions. Mostly nonsensical ones. But I love them. And then today was the farewell party of one of the teachers. She had been teaching primary school children for the last 40 years. Believe me it's feat. 1st std kids. It's so frustrating when you can't understand them. They are adorable and you want to do everything to be there for them, but when they want something out of your reach, you are helpless to do anything to pacify them.

So Now am still a teacher. Teaching kids and loving it.