A li'l more joie de vivre

Hello and welcome aboard Flight RJ 108 from Barcelona to Amman. Take off was scheduled for 1835 Central European Time. Six minutes past already and passengers are still boarding. All in good time I suppose...

Sweet Irony
In over a month of travelling across Western Europe, I lose exactly one pen, one comb and one belt. Congenitally unpunctual as I am, I miss exactly zero trains and seven classes over a whole term. The more I travel, the more I pat myself on the back for being a schemer and scheduler nonpareil.

And then right at the end, my keys to our swanky penthouse flat on Calle Pavia vanish into thin air somewhere between the master bedroom and the kitchen. Another delightful meeting with gracious Landlord, I think.

But it gets better. I get back home at 1530 after desperate last minute shopping to find that Evil Landlord has acted Mr.Punctual and made away with Xxx Euros in lieu of the other sets of keys in my possession. It was either the money or the passport and Rohit has played the valiant knight in shining armour.

Destiny
As Arjuna makes his way back after the Ashvamedha Yagna, he comes across a city being looted by bandits. He, the wielder of the Gandiva, conqueror of Bheeshma, Karna and other stalwarts is reduced to another common archer as all the astras and powers obtained prior to the War desert him at this juncture. Sage Vyasa explains that the astras had fulfilled their purpose and would no longer be at his command. As with Arjuna’s astras, so with my astras: the keys get lost right at the end. The three month TMB pass obtained at a 15% discount under the guise of an under-21 student, after serving diligently on tram, bus and metro fails to work for that one last time, as I insert it into the turnstile at Catalunya.

First Love
1830, 22^nd September, Barcelona welcomed us with a pleasant evening breeze. The city beckoned to be explored and lived. 1600, 22^nd December. Back at the airport and just a feeling that I am as much an outsider as I was three months back. Just another visitor who came, stayed and left.

Nevertheless a long distance has been travelled – from MTR and margheritas to sabji and sambhar, from Lisbon to Vienna and from Amsterdam to Rome, from blank hard disk to fifteen ripped DVDs, and from hola brownie to adios amigos. A little more purpose (less surfing and more listening in class), a little more intimacy (with other ESADE students, Barcelona, and fellow backpackers) and Europe would have been even fonder a memory.

But these have been the days, 23, alive and footloose on the Continent. There’ll be other times, and there’ll be more fun, but like a first love (I imagine), the days chronicled in these Diaries will remain close to heart, forever.

Extras
DVDs come with all kinds of extra content: trailers, interviews, computer games, music, outtakes, commentaries, the works. With a movie that connects with you, the extra content is a treasure trove. With other movies, the extras are just so much more trash.

Well, the analogy is so flawed it isn't one, but like so much more trash after the real thing, the last few entries in the Diaries will fill in the missing pieces – accounts of the Austria-Germany trip, the Madrid-Lisbon trip and other sundry ramblings.

Boring, because the lights of Barca fade away even as I write and life back at B awaits impatiently, but it’s got to be done, ya know, just for the completeness of the thing. In the meanwhile Bye, Bye Barca...