...31st morning 2am  and its a full flight out of delhi. i am scrunched in between the tigris and euphrates, at least their bladders are not unlike the mighty rivers. on the same old train out of frankfurt at 8am.

raunheim once more,
the roofs are white,
timid smoke hesitantly
pushing up chimneys,
reluctant to leave,
the warmth of houses
in weinnachts wake.
russelsheim once more,
the tracks are white,
the opel buildings,
cold and grey,
a sea of cheerless cars,
with white marine hairdos.
no power points,
this is an IC train,
hurtling through mainz.
little shacks,
the rhein to the right.
koblenz, bonn, bahnhof am dom,
i am home.

kalbshaxe and mashed potatoes mmm...
new years eve is spent in a little suburb somewhere between koln and bonn with mira, annabelle and some other friends of theirs... a jumble of names, sven, marco, tanya, torsten. german accented voices singing out strains of the temptations

"i guess you say, what can make me feel this way"...

2002, another year, fireworks...

was years since i lit a rocket, sekt, an economic union, a pocketful of freshly minted euro coins, the first ever.

new years day salmon and mashed potatoes mmm...

i learn to tune a sarod, the secrets to a clean tone, a couple of scales, patterns that i can practice, ustad kurt ali khan is an eager and patient teacher.

i breaks a few strings, alienate my fingernails but its all good. watch some old movies. the next morning i close an old bank account and take

an afternoon train back. its an ICE, 3,60 euros extra explains the DB ticketman in speedy german with about as much brevity as a james joyce novel. i quell a strong desire to use a newly learnt phrase, 'dungelaufen'. ...but ICE has power points which means i type this as i sit through the 2 hour journey that will take me to the frankfurt flughafen and a connecting flight to toronto.