Wednesday, March 14, 2012 An old letter: Year 2000 You know I've got 4 pet snails--I don't particularly love snails--but I guess I'm trying to make a quiet, rather shy, almost inadvertent philosophical statement . . . they represent my present state of life--I'd have bought fishes--but I didn't--because fishes are restless, hyperactive--snails are sluggish, slothful . . . Life in Hyderabad is snail-paced. Laid-back. Living in the Old City is a proverbial Sisyphean-ordeal. Mediocre, myopic people -- and their obstinate mind-sets. Stray dogs-and-other predatory creatures infested--riot-and-blackout prone neighborhoods. I don't mean to sound snobbish. I still love my city -- its heritage--at least. But I feel so sorry for 'em. Anyway, I shouldn't write a sob-story. What's happening in my life? Hmm . . . Looking for a bride -- Re-reading From Heaven Lake: Travels through Sinkiang and Tibet by Vikram Seth -- Playing Jim Corbett: Reinventing mousetraps -- relentless skirmishes with intrepid roaches and lizards that often intrude into my elbowroom -- niece persuaded me to start blogging -- trying to co-exist with a would-be man-eater -- she's fierce and monstrous -- Sona -- a miniature wildcat -- loves mauling me -- this place is haunting me -- hate telly -- home-alone -- love scarecrows -- life has turned into a seesaw: hope and despair . . .