Hyderabad diaries

15 August
Facebook on your mobile. At Shamsabad airport I suddenly realize the length of my absence from home. Dhoni seems ubiquitous in the ad spaces in a spick and span airport. Of course, it is Mahi’s Team India now. And of course, I have been away. Anything I write here can be so aptly tagged with "displacement"! Strange how arriving at a place for the first time in my life I should get a sense of having been away. Well. Imagined communities...

Surreal drive from Shamsabad airport to Miyapur. I am beginning to get the feel of Cyberabad. As we wind down the highway, the headlights flash upon rocky remnants of the Deccan and evidence of intense ongoing construction work. What must this place look like by day?

I discover later that my belongings are soaked through courtesy IndiGo’s strange luggage handling. Among them is my copy of Midnight’s Children. Ominous?

16 August
Clad in a Fab India 4-kali skirt and top, sling bag on shoulder, my hair up in a makeshift knot that frequently metamorphoses into a ponytail, the question I elicit among the women acquaintances my mother has made in the last 7 days, is whether I am married. But they are nice on the whole, and even though I look very different from locals, I feel comfortable out on the streets. The men seem courteous.
I can’t get rid of my America-acquired habit of smiling at people (all women in this case), especially if I have spoken with once. Fortunately there are no mishaps. I wonder and wonder—I never smile enough in greeting while in the US.

17 August
Getting out of the elevator, I learn the Telugu for “open” (or so I think), when a visitor/neighbour says, “tivande”.

18 August
The dosas have a different feel—soft like tissue paper. I am getting by with my Hindi thankfully. I am amazed at how much I can explain when I don’t have the word they might understand. Though I know that a horizontal shake of the head in these parts stands for the affirmative, I am flummoxed while shopping.
My little niece seems to like payesh. I will make it again another day.

19 August
Another new Telugu word: “eynkda”. It may mean “where” or “which shop”. I learn it as the woman from whom I buy onions enquires as to where I have bought tomatoes that look fresh.

20 August
My little niece, all of 8 months, is yelling “aa…aa…aa”. I try to teach her to sing. Nice sawaal-jawaab session ensues. Once I sing a note, she mimes “aa”!