It's not every day that I have the time to take a walk along the sea in the mornings. Today was one of those rare days when the weather was perfect and I had the time so I thought, "Carpe diem et coffee. Let's go for a walk." As I got into the lift, I saw myself sauntering on Carter Road Bandstand. Naturally, I saw myself like a Henri Cartier-Bresson photograph: a blurry, perfect moment;  wind-swept hair arranged artfully yet carelessly to show only my kohl-lined eyes, preserving the camera and other things with sight from having to survive seeing my face.

So I go to Gloria Jean's to get my daily dose of chocolate soup (officially known as the Mocha Caramelatte). It is raining by now. No matter. I'm carrying my navy blue umbrella, which is perfectly colour-coordinated with the grey sky and murky sea.

I'm feeling very good about this walk in the drizzle. Discovery's "Swing Tree" is tinkling in my ear (fun, fluorescent album with some dark, gender-bender interludes that still manage to sound Ritalin-happy. Once you get past the sinking feeling that the eighties are indeed back, it's an absolute delight. It is, however, very possible that Michael Jackson's heart attack came from hearing their version of "I Want You Back", which is weirdly hypnotic after you've survived hearing it a couple of times).  So far, I haven't slipped on anything and I've managed to avoid excreta, garbage etc. Basically, all is as sweet as a Jaffa cake with the world.

Until my head gets tangled in my umbrella. Don't ask me how, because my hair was tightly and securely tied up. However, suddenly, there I am on Turner Road, with my head cocked at a ridiculous angle, looking like someone has yanked my invisible leash. And I am unable to untangle self from umbrella, which is sticking out as though I'm a cocktail glass instead of a person. I do the only thing a girl can under the circumstances: physically and literally go around in circles in an effort to "see" what's happening at the back of my head. Until I realise that I am physically and literally going around in circles in the middle of Bandra. Then in an effort to end the problem quickly, I proceed to yank my head in the direction opposite to umbrella.  I also jump up and down with the hope that this excessive motion will somehow extricate head from umbrella. Traffic on Turner Road slows down as passing cars are riveted by the sight of bouncing brown egg on pavement.

Am happy to report have dislodged umbrella from self.