I got kicked out of my house unceremoniously by the landlord – ok that made for a good dramatic beginning but I basically just had to leave the house because he decided to come live there. Now I’m someone whose helplessness at packing is so pitiful that even my German host mother took over the job realising I might just miss my flight back to India if she didn’t. Someone whose brother spent the day after his own wedding packing my suitcase since I was moving to a new city. And this someone now faced the Herculean task of fitting about 2 years of stuff into 2 suitcases. That’s a year per suitcase, and it boggles the mind. Especially since that same suitcase had been carted home empty and brought back full of stuff on every monthly visit. I reserved a weekend to get this done, and I spent the whole of Saturday fretting over the task and ended the night by drowning my apprehensions in beer. The next morning I woke up groggy but determined. I knew I needed reinforcements and set of
"A dawn to end all nights, that's all we hoped it was"