I settled down to work after lunch but felt so drowsy it was crazy. So my mind wandered to the kitchen sink and I instantly followed it, thinking, why not shake up the energy molecules and decimate the washing up. Win-win, no? Then of course, […]
Memories from another day . . .
I miss hearing this song, listening to you asking me to please turn down the volume, Mi. And then, that day I fell sick, you put it on the cassette player and turned up the volume, hoping to cheer me up.
I miss you. Especially today, when I feel a little low. I came back from our trip with an itchy face with streaks of dry skin, insect bites, a nose bleed, toothache and a big fear of how my blood tests, which were due, would turn out. Ugh.
Coconut oil is my best friend now: all but the areas around the eyes and cheeks are clearing up. I look a bit ancient around the eyes–probably taking longer because the skin there is softer. The insect bite is also healing, albeit slowly. During the trip, boroplus was my best friend.
There is never a day when I don’t regret not listening to you about taking care of my hair. It is falling in droves but ironically, length-wise, it is growing. What’s the use? Who wants a thinning pony tail? Bah!
I have to smile when I think of how sporting you were, after the three months bed rest, when the physiotherapist started the process of mobilizing you. Your hair, in spite of the care had matted a bit and in a moment, you said “just chop it off”. We did try to untangle it but then, after you urged me a few times, I cut it off. So regretfully. You had beautiful hair, and as a child, I recall being in awe of your knee length curly thick hair in its braid. On the days you washed it, I would love to stand close to you, hugging you, letting your tresses flow over me, fragrant with the homemade shikakai and then, sambrani treatment. Then paati would oil it and braid it for you. What lovely memories, Mi!
Now, I have more stresses than tresses. Haha, I am pretty good at handling stress, and just couldn’t help saying that. But yes, I do stress over my tresses, rather futilely.
Maybe I’ll just chop my hair off also one of these days. Just getting together the guts to do it. And of course, a good hair dresser. That Chinese lady in Mumbai was so cool! My best haircut ever.
There’ll never be anyone I can talk to, the way I can talk to you, Mi. Yes, friends, right till the end. Except now, it is “my end”
Every one is so busy. Too busy to connect, even. Of course, there’s also the matter of inclination, eh? What can time alone do?
Thank you for being my best friend. I am grateful for the memories.
Let’s enjoy the song ♥ while I go make the second coffee.
It is amazing how sometimes a movie based on a book we read is picturized exactly how it unfolded in our minds. I had that fabulous experience while watching a movie last week, Mi. I mean, it is freaky how, almost to the smallest detail, it was just as I had imagined it happening. Great feeling.
I thought of all the time we fantasized about holidays and visiting places and what we would do. But the one that always makes me laugh and cry at the same time is the one about arriving at this particular place in that posh car, wearing silk saris, breezing in and looking at our watches, and saying how little time we have, because we have to be in some place in another half an hour. Declining that coffee or snack, if any was offered. Leaving a haze of perfume behind, even as they wonder what hit them before they wake up to reality.
I laugh at all that.
Then my eyes fill up because we never got anywhere near realizing that dream–and believe me, we could have, you know. I am just sad we only went through the nasty part where we were used like dirty rags before being cast aside, conveniently forgotten. Still, I am glad that these slices of life and memories biodegraded and provided fodder for our fantasies. I marvel at how positive we always were, that things would get better. They did, didn’t they? Only we had to literally put ourselves through hell to get away.
Weird memories, no? Had you been here today, we would have been constantly talking about all these things and strangely, feeling better.
So many memories tumble out whenever I open one of the cupboards, you know.
Incidentally, you know I never got around to wearing those white embroidered salwars we got on 8th cross. I’ve gotten them out so I can shorten them, otherwise I’ll have to hriday-tuck them, which is not very comfortable. I’ve pledged not to buy any new clothes until I’ve sorted out what I have. I have been gifting away quite a few, you know, and it feels very good.
Hmm. By the way, the dosai kallu-tava is acting up again. Time for a new one I think. I haven’t been able to season the cast iron one properly yet. It still has hot spots–so annoying. And by the way, I discovered that cutting and rubbing a potato on the tava brings up a weird smell. I prefer to slice an onion–that’s so much better.
I have to take stock of veggies now and make a meal plan of sorts for the next three days. In the meantime, let me go make some coffee and a nice badam halwa.