Going...going...gone

Here is my last post from Stuttgart for now. Moving teaches many new lessons and gives many fresh insights into something which might appear normal otherwise.

For example, a wardrobe or a cupboard looks ghostly and different when it is empty. I can almost tell when it is filled with someone's life or it has been emptied of what existed there.

When you are moving cross country, you can never carry enough luggage with you. No matter how much baggage your airline allows you or there is always an option of sending a cargo to the destination. Bottomline, chances are your favourite things from the past might are just excess baggage.

Being ruthless helps. 'Oh I wore that t-shirt at that party where we had our first champagne together.' 'I bought this from my first salary.' Well, whatever emotional attachments, price tags, utility factors you bring in the picture, at the end of the day, keep your priorities clear.

And if you are a writer and you are obviously not JK Rowling (who used to get in the news for not checking in her manuscripts), carrying your originally written notepads in your handbag means shoulder pain for a week.

We've just finished packing, and treated ourselves to midnight Bhel party. The weather is simply marvellous and I do find the ghostly wardrobes, stacked up boxes of left overs and pull between excitement and emptiness a little overwhelming.

Any way, it is already morning and the day has started at the destination. Mann, I already started talking in the flight attendent language.