Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I were on a desert (or a deserted) island, far away from all interference. The reasons for this outburst are three: a matron with a large family and an even larger mouth - my neighbour on the left; a group of bachelors who play loud, garish, Telugu film music and puff away like chimneys - my neighbours on the right; a team of builders that seems to revel in dropping great globs of cement and rubble on my window, accompanied by dissonant sounds of various varieties from inside the half-built monstrosity they are creating - my neighbours behind me. It's enough to drive one crazy.

Yet, I know I will never leave my modern-day castle. I'd rather sit in it and complain than move away. For I am used to "city life."

Rather neatly, I have fallen into the urban trap.

Cheers.