When I took a deep breath and let it out, I did not feel it. It was as if I was already holding the air in my lungs. The city made me more suffocated than I already was. I forgot to pay attention to each of my breath, ignoring the fact that I was alive. Preoccupied with dried up thoughts that cracked once in a while, mixed with a spoonful of homesickness, I felt that I didn't belong here. The tea tasted like Ginger. I could smell it everywhere. I couldn't sniff dosa or any sort of South Indian masalas. The air was chilly. I hardly felt my fingers or my ears. But the most annoying thought that lingered in my mind was that the tea smelled like Ginger. It did. I remember achan saying ginger tea helps in proper digestion. Hmm.
I forced myself out of the bed to the grounds filled with the royal history of Udaipur. The city palace was huge. Built on the banks of Lake Pichola, it held a breathtaking view from almost all the windows of the palace. I guess the ladies of the royal family were pretty fortunate to enjoy the sunset everyday. For a moment I felt that I should have been born 500 years ago, here, in Udaipur, just so I'd' never miss out on a sunset. But the tea (yes. Ginger tea) costs Rs.250/- in the palace. Of course it was a tourist destination and everything costs at least six times the actual cost. Pheww! The setting sun and the photographs I clicked drowned me in a puddle of what-if's and why-did's. Visiting Udaipur (alone) was never my idea. It was in (our) bucket list.
There were two waterbirds (to be precise; generally known as Common Coot) taking dips one after the other as if they were in the middle of a hide and seek game. Who knows if they didn't want each other to know that that ate a tiny fish with each dip! I had my first ever bite of Moong (ka/ki; I have the cutest spoken Hindi skill) Halwa on my way back. It melted in my mouth until I found two Gulab Jamuns and later a cup of tea (yes. Ginger. Ginger). The change in the air made me a little warmer.