Back like we never left
A new Two To Tango newsletter in your inbox after ghosting you for a year and a half? Call it a Christmas miracle. Darshita and I have finally decided to get back to regularly nurturing this labour of love every fortnight. We write for a living (and mostly love it) but there’s something about rambling together on this platform that we’ve sorely missed.
For today’s edition, we thought long and hard about a way to stamp our return and exit 2023 and obvious topics like New Years resolutions and recapping 2023 came to mind but in the end we tossed all that aside to talk about a city so constant in all our stories that it’s more of a main character: London. Here’s an ode to what we love, what we hate and what we tolerate about our second home —
Tango with Darshita
Take a deep breath and buckle in.
At the time of writing this newsletter, I’m two sleeps away from taking a *long* flight back to dreamy/dreary London. Before you get any ideas, nope I’m not returning from an exotic winter vacay in the Laplands, just a month of weddings and holidays at my childhood home in India. It’s still conflicting to call it that, more so because it then implies that the mouldy Bermondsey rental in London is my dream-come-true grown up home. Barf.
To be fair, in the last 828 days - yes I counted - I have gained a masters, some weight, girl gangs, girl math and girlfriend status; I also hosted dinner parties, hopped through exhibitions, drank limitless wine at pop ups, watched movies for work; worked part-time, full time, freelance but thankfully not for free; stood in many, many, many queues and ate, also cooked, some delicious lemon tagliatelle and cardamom pastries. If that’s not adulting, I don’t want it.
My conscience is grating so I have to add there was also mould spray, rat traps, insecticide bombs, moving trucks with sketchy Russian men, too much ££ lost in taxes and even more friends lost in missed expectations. Let’s just say it’s a mixed bag. On the days when the 1 terminates a few stops too soon, the rain makes the roof leak and my family celebrates diwali without me, London feels like a temporary pause that stayed on for too long. Press play already, get back to the life you love, deserve and crave.
But on other days, the city makes my heart soar, no it really does! The way the river shimmers and swirls under the bright lights, the cowboy boots, shearling bags and little poke tatts that the tube girls serve, the smell of fresh lavender, grilled cheese and too much beer when you walk into any market ~ it’s like an adrenaline rush of golden stimulus.
I’m aware that this week’s entry reads a bit like a confused pro-con list but that’s the point I’m trying to make. When you grow up one place but fall in love with and in another, you’re left straddling two homes and if you’re lucky, two very rewarding, full lives. In moments, one feels better than the other, and tbh I don’t know when it gets better - but I promise the sky high highs make it oh so worth it.
While I stack up another bag of pure Bangalore hot chips into my luggage (for nostalgic snacking duh), my toes curl from the all too familiar change that awaits me. The prickly tears of leaving, the content-fuelled flight, the first step into a dusty winter room, the comfort of slipping under my worn-out tropical comforter, heavy lids opening up to a full calendar and the thrill of living in the greatest city in the world. It feels good again, really fucking good.
andddd breathe out.
Tango with Avani
Not going to lie, its hard to drive home the point about why I adore this city when at this very moment its pouring cats and dogs outside, my windows are shaking from all the wind and I can’t remember when I saw last saw the sun. But I’m also a strong believer of the fact that I don’t really love something if I don’t hate it from time to time or embrace its drawbacks, so a linear proclamation of ‘London is the best!’ would be untrue and slightly boring.
When I first moved here in 2016 for my bachelors, I was filled with an overwhelming urge to see and soak in everything this city had to offer. I loved every bit of it inspite of the occasional bouts of homesickness, the sweaty experience of being stuck in the tube during rush hour, paying for overpriced coffees and being unprepared for the bone-chilling cold during my first winter here. I couldn’t recognise this new version of myself who was doing pub crawls, taking long walks on Millennium Bridge on a whim, buying flowers at Sunday markets with her flatmate, discovering the best exhibitions and Belgian waffles, making friends from all walks of life and completing an entire degree in a foreign country.
When I briefly came back to India, that new version came back with me. Here I was in my adolescent bedroom in Bangalore, surrounded by a shrine of things that I literally grew up with, but holding memories of a city and time so far away and so different. And while I couldn’t be happier to be back with my family and friends, a part of me grieved for my temporary home. So when I returned after 3 years in 2022 to do a masters, it felt like stumbling upon an old song you obsessively listened to at one point in your life; nostalgic and heartwarming. Except now, I was no longer a starry-eyed 18-year old ready to explore, I was socially-anxious and nervous to leave the cocoon of family’s embrace in the aftermath of covid-19.
This time, it took me a little longer to fall back in love with London. It was a slow-burning affair where I was more cautious than carefree, hardly a love at first sight like my optimistic and high-spirited teenage self indulged in. The highs were high and the lows were truly low, and they both hit me harder than I expected, but I guess that’s what growing up does to you. I’m grateful that this city accepted and helped blossom both versions of myself, giving me a reality check from time to time but also cheering me on from the sidelines when I come into my own.
OOPS we did it again! (Random recommendations to tango with, curated 4U)
Run don’t walk to slurp up all the scandalous - and very false - tea on Paul Mescal.
A mum made a quaint dollhouse for her 3-year old entirely from scratch, complete with a cafe, flower shop and a cute little bedroom, and documented the entire process on reels. Can I please have it instead?
Paint your nails or get them painted, here’s some inspo.
Love Island and Too Hot To Handle is mehh (I said what I said). May I please suggest its Korean alternative Single’s Inferno, specifically S2.
Late to the slate but still very good, read The List, trust me you don’t want to end 2023 without it.
I read a million takes on girlhood and girl trends that defined this year and this short but sweet article on British Vogue sums up my feelings perfectly