To begin with I don’t miss my country, but I miss my family and my friends. Cheltenham, where I’m going to be at for a good 11 months, is a town in Gloucestershire county. In comparison to the Indian cities I’ve stayed in the place ain’t big so I assume I would not get lost at any point, even if I were drunk. But nevertheless it is too well organized, amazingly planned and most importantly it is beautiful. Eventually everything would be up here on the zine. Amidst all the cultural differences and not-too-crowded bylanes the weather here is irresistibly cold. But then one gets used to everything in life, right? If we are disappointed with someone, and we are able to dust ourselves and move on, which is tough, then a change in weather, environment, surrounding and the like are definitely not ‘issues’. Life should be anything but artificial and a slap once in a while, in any shape or form, is necessary to become aware of what is happening around you.
Al right, so in a week’s time here I’ve already experienced a temperature of zero degrees and have started cooking my own food. 10, Grosvenor House. That’s where I’m having a time of my life, and its contrary to what the name might suggest to you. Let me take you through the residence. Cheltenham is known for horse racing and there is an annual festival that happens here some time during the month of March where in this city witnesses a huge influx of tourists. ‘Sources’ told me this same house is rented out for around 800 pounds a night during the fest. Sweet.
Even though you have already seen the interiors I’d still want you to knock the door before coming in. You never know what I’m indulging myself in!
Absurd History 