We are conveniently situated for shopping, and we have only to step out of the house and there is a good place for us to walk in. The great drawback is that there are number of flats in one building and so there is not much privacy as we should like.
Plenty of screens are required to keep people from looking into our rooms. The building is also very noisy, particularly as so many of the occupants are musically inclined and insist on making abundant use of pianos and phonographs.
Still we ought not to grumble, as the streets are quiet; and compared with our cousins who are still living in the native town with its uproar, dust and dirt, we are very well off indeed.
We have a verandah overlooking the Cooperage, where football matches are played almost daily during the monsoon, and we can watch them without stirring from the house and without fear of being caught by a sudden shower.
I always think a crowd repays observation, particularly such a variously assorted crowd as we see here, Hindus, Parsis, Mahomedans, all types and classes of people, passing to and fro, refreshing themselves after their day’s work is done.
I wish you were with me. It would be more interesting to discuss the crowd with a friend and, I am sure, you would love to wander about the seashore with me in the morning and to go shopping in the evening. After dark, the road in front of the house and the maiden are quite deserted.
It is then that I like to walk on a fine evening, when the moon is shining and the water in the bay is glistening in its light. Everything is so peaceful, and as I walk I can think over the lessons I have learnt for the next day, detect deficiencies to be made up next morning, and make a mental note of questions to be asked on difficulties I cannot solve alone.