picking up..

Yet Dona Maria, like a worn out song
That keeps a phrase of wisdom in our ears,
Like the sad gaiety of a drunk guitar,
Like the bright gardens which blind vendors sell,
I watch your ancient, simple spirit were
Its letters flake across the balcony
From the façade of a third rate hotel

Castiliane
Derek Walcott


That’s the beauty with words; they can be all yours while still being someone else’s.

Ive missed blogging, I really have.

So this is part of where Ive been

This is for the three people who still come here
-


December 6th –

FINALLY.

Time to celebrate, time to let loose, time to just forget everything that’s happened. Happiness, sheer painless smooth happiness. We get off the car, put on the lights and roll up our jeans.

Hello Beach. Long time no see.

Last time I came here was That Night, and since then I had made many a promise to myself about the way I was going to continue leading my life.

One look at the waves and they all melted away.

Portable stereo, great company and a digital camera.

What effortless smiles those were.

15th December-

Facing defeat is not something I do very often, primarily because when I put my mind to something I always get it, and when I don’t, I accept defeat and embrace it with a cynical smile. Ive never ever not gotten something that I really wanted.

Till today.

‘I would kill baby kittens to get this.’

Ha.

19th December-

Its funny, how two of the most important people in my life can share the same birthday. Its also funny how they never celebrate it together till today. If all goes well, this should be one of the best days of my life, what with all that’s planned.

Its foolproof.

20th December-

6pm- I danced with a Hijra at Khadda Market. Then I helped A try on a bra at Park Towers.

It was too small for him.

Teehee.

We won though, and I never thought we would given the team we had. The last clue led us to the beach, where her yum sandwiches and cheap victory cups await.

7pm- Drives back have never been like this. Normally, everyone is piled up with slow music playing in the background. Everyone is in there own world, people sobering up, others trying to dust sand off their jeans.

This time there were the three of us. There was silence, but a silence that reeked of fear rather than intoxication. Disbelief mingled with blatant denial. This couldn’t be happening, things don’t happen this way.

23rd December-

I might not look it, but I don’t breakdown easily. Tears are luxuries that I try not to indulge in, especially when there are many cautious eyes watching. But today, when I came home after one more exhausting day there, I just couldn’t help myself.

‘How’s she?’

‘Not good’

‘How’re you?’

‘Not that good either.’

My mothers smells just like she did back in third grade, when I would come to her after falling down my bike to bawl for hours..

Some things never change.

25th December-

Even though ive traveled all over the world, I still get excited over sitting in a plane. This trip promises some major downtime, something ive not had for a while.

If only this horrible guilt would leave me alone.

31st December-

This was by far the oddest New Years ever. Normally, the olds are out of town and I have a brilliant curfew. Midnight is spent with blaring music and shrieks. Surrounded by people I know and love I dance the night away, bare feet mix with brown sand, empty thoughts mix with tangled emotion.
This year, it was the three of us in a foreign land. I was back in my room at one, and was fast asleep in fifteen minutes.

But hey, the group hug while the fireworks lit the sky in orangey pink glows was worth it.

Those were tears of joy.

I love the both of you.