The diary of a single woman in her 30s! (oh damn!) Dot Diaries is an immersive auto ethnography technique that relies of first person narratives to aid the process of meaning construction.

1. The diary of a single
woman in her 30s!
(oh damn!)

2. Early morning flights make me nervous. I leave the
lights on. I have three alarms buzzing periodically
and the taxi driver
is hopefully someone
who calls frequently
for directions to my
house. I have over
slept through one journey and another time
reached the airport only to see the very aircraft I
was to be on takeoff. Oh! The sinking feeling of
being left behind and the necessary catalog of
emotions: an experience that initially changed me
in a small way, that eventually evolved into a
substantive life change in how I think and perceive
the world around me, and my relationship to it.

3. It occurred to me that life should be like an
airport, everybody knows
where they are heading,
what they are doing,
strangers are too close in
our space and yet how
peaceful everyone is.
My neighbor roared peacefully through takeoff (and
landing), while I read "The Tao Of Physics". It has
opened a window or two for
me, and the inertia in which I
had formed my opinions and
prejudice, learned to see and
feel and judge the world

4. around me, seemed embarrassingly narrow, lacking
and unwise…

5. I arrive at Chennai and the first thing that hits
me is the heat. It’s sweltering hot. My car has not
arrived and like a regular metro user in Delhi, I
promptly decide to hop on to the metro. A young boy
accosts me and very politely says”ma’am, that’s
not a metro like Delhi,
it’s the local train and
best avoided” I am all
the more curious while
the boy guides me to the
local taxi stand. Just then a harried driver

6. approaches me and takes my hand bag and apologies
profusely. I reach the office and am delivered the
mandatory smile
and lead into
conference room
loaded with
refreshments and
informed that
meeting is delayed for an hour – perhaps it’s a
good sign, I still need to take off more warm
clothing to look reasonably respectable. I sip my tea
and observe; people look tranquil in this office -
surely they have timelines to meet too? Or is it the
sunny weather that makes people temperamentally
so peaceful?

7. It’s not yet one and tables are cleared and tiffin
boxes are out, dishes shared liberally, I’m sure office
gossips spreads adequately and I am the main topic
for today. My client arrives and the warmth with
which he greeted me made me forget the wait – I
am ushered into a car and we arrive at a hotel for
lunch – the longest lunch in my working life - it
stretches through to three pm and yet there is no
talk of the business to discuss. My client is
accompanied by his architect and I find myself
taking to them like I have known them forever. We
talk of religion, music, art – all topics that steer
clear of anxiety. Is this a strategy or is this the
mankind Chennai nurtures I wonder? I am totally
charmed by this serene pace of life. I seriously

8. contemplate relocating to Chennai, life will be so
much easier, and the weather mandates just one
style of clothing…
I go to the washroom and cross the parlour, which
has several corpulent males being attended to by a
bevy of beauticians, manicuring fingers and toes,
sawing furiously away at horny feet and massaging
spiced oils into tired scalps. The sight was infinitely
disturbing. However, how I long to be pampered like
that, and how I long to have the time for that in
Delhi; the thought of returning to live in cold grey
Delhi leaves me under a pall of depression!
We are back in the office now and I am wondering
if business has escaped my client’s attention, but

9. no! We are seated at his desk and for the next half
hour business is transacted in the most efficient
and professional manner. The deal is signed and tea
is served and once again we are back to a
comforting pace where conversation is smooth and
unruffled and attention is undivided – Why don’t I
seriously move to Chennai?!! Rushing around is an
embarrassing Delhi way to live.
It’s time for my flight now and I put on my layers
of clothing and with it my layers of individualities
and attitudes and prepare for the onslaught of
Delhi’s chill and impersonal surroundings.
My driver fortunately is more concerned about
having me board the flight and his driving equals

10. agent vinod at his best. It occurred to me that I
have not spoken to anybody except my client
throughout the day – in Delhi I would have made
small talk for there would have been issues and by
the end of the day I would have felt
overburdened…not with life Chennai style. I’m
back in Delhi and with minimum interaction with
the taxi driver, except for the terrible weather
and soaring prices of lentil, arrive at my home,
ready to start the next morning with a
magnificent production of life the Delhi way.