And I am plain tired of all this.

I am tired.

I am tired of writing, writing, reading and writing some more and again writing. I keep looking out of the window and the view is so pretty and green and all I want to do is walk around, stare at the blue skies, appreciate the green leafiness of the trees juxtaposed against the blueness of the skies. I wanna worry about my appearance, my eyebrows that have grown into a forest, my nails that are screaming for a manicure and the feet that'll die for a pedicure. I want to be able to surf the net, read random articles, blogs, food blogs, strange blogs, the New Yorker, the Rumpus, Rebelle Society. I want to read the remaining bit of Julie and Julia in one sitting on my Kindle. I wanna go for a run and pant and pant and feel my muscles being stretched and come back home and take a warm water shower with the most aromatic of bath gels and just stand under the shower and feel the warm water over my naked body. I wanna shop for clothes without worrying about the burden it'll cast on my pocket. I wanna wear lipgloss and colourful eyeliners and colour co-ordinate my clothes and make up and shoes. I wanna buy shoes, slip ons, chappals, moccasins. I wanna go out for  drinks with my favourite people at our favourite haunts, order as many plates of crispy lamb and chilly pork and have as many glasses of Bloody Marys, Margheritas and Screw Drivers.

I wanna do all the above without worrying about papers, assignments and exams and this excruciating fear of failure. I am missing out on life at some levels I feel. I am gaining knowledge and yada yada yada but it doesn't help that while all I did was to sit cooped up in this darned stupid CJ Koh library during the festive season, everyone back home only spoke about the delicious food they feasted on, the range of colourful outfits they wore, the amazing times with loved ones, the gaiety and fun and frolic in the air and I was in this clinical and sterile country where every thing is so mechanical. People don't have conversations while travelling in buses. They are busy playing with their phones and tablets. They hardly talk. Whispering out aloud in the library is also greeted with raised eyebrow and a frown by a local Singaporean. I have one really good friend but she seems to be an anomaly amongst the rest. She is like us Indians, loud, giggly, loves to chatter. The Europeans are so much more friendly and forthcoming. The chinese are reserved and suspicious by nature of foreigners especially Indians. But if you are white you'll be treated like God in this country. I see it everywhere. I don't plan to live here forever so it doesn't bother me.

 I think this is how your perspective changes once you head out. Not that one is treated as a first class citizen in India. I am so so aware of how things work out in India and the shortcomings of the system. I totally get why people once gone often do not wanna come back once they get a taste of life elsewhere. Singapore is fair to its citizens and I accept that. If you are a Singaporean citizen here then there would hardly be any discrimination based on your race, religion or economic status. In India we deal with discrimination everywhere but then we get used to it. Its inbuilt and when we want to get something done we know we'll have to approach the right people. For that you need money of course. In India a lot of it is about how much money do you have and do you know the right people and these two questions are repeated again and again in situation after situation? To think I still wanna go back to that is questionable. I guess its the fact that I don't like living without a support system and my people and at the end that is all that matters.