An Empty Land

I walk into the familiar coffee shop, where the table by the window had belonged to me and my friends, each weekend, long ago. I order the same, for old times' sake, and we sit in silence, my coffee and I.

I look around, unseeing, as the years melt and fall away. I'm that effervescent girl once more and my friends are here with me, squeezing in around the table, engaged in noisy banter. We talk, we dream, we build castles in the air...

And in that fleeting moment, nothing has changed.

I blink, and the magic is gone. The coffee shop looks a little worse for wear now, the music that emanates from the speakers is not the same and the view from the window looks jaded. My friends are long gone, scattered across the miles, separated by distances and priorities, and the castles we built in the air are now lives rooted in routine and responsibility...

Everything has changed.

I pay for the coffee, swing my bag over my shoulder and get up to leave.

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The Ties that Bind

My little boy rings the doorbell when he returns from school, and then rushes to hide. It's an elaborate game we've played for as long as I can remember. I open the door, call out his name and pretend to look for him in all of two possible places near the staircase, only to act surprised when he jumps out from his secret spot with a loud 'Boo!'

Somehow, the game never grows old. He walks in triumphantly, having scared his mum, and then settles down on my lap for his customary cuddle while proceeding to tell me all about his day at school. I love listening to his stories, love being welcomed into a part of his life that I really have no control over.

And even as I'm listening to his enthusiastic tales, a dark corner of my mind is already wistful thinking about the time he'll outgrow this need for childish games, for a hug, and for the banter that we indulge in. A time when I will no longer be his best friend, but an annoying parent who is too old to understand. I wonder about the friends he will have, the ones who will become his world, and hope they will be as devoted and encouraging as the friends I had...the ones who I still do. 

He pauses in his narration, frowns and asks why I'm not paying attention to him. Of course, I'm listening, I insist, so that he's assured and carries on with details of games class and his awesomeness at playing ball. But how can I assure him that he is the centre of my universe, now and always? That I possibly couldn't love anyone more than I love him, and that while he has become my greatest weakness, he is also my strongest reason for living.

I think he senses some of this, though, with trusting childish insight, but he'll forget when he's older, a teenager maybe. And later, when my arms can no longer circle protectively around his frame - because that wouldn't be cool - I'll shield him with prayer instead, and hope, that one day he'll remember these ordinary, golden times, and understand.

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The Night Watch - A song that I've loved since I was a kid. 

बारिश

रात की गहरी खामोशियों में

याद आते हैं कुछ बीते लम्हे,

मोहब्बत में डूबे कुछ नाज़ुक पल

आहिस्ता जागती ख़ुशी का एक एहसास...

मन देखे फिर

उस अधूरे मौसम का ख़्वाब

और जी लेती है ज़िन्दगी

उन यादों की बारिश में...

आज तुम ना हो तो क्या

अब तन्हाई भी तो नहीं रही...

Curiouser and Curiouser

“Take some more tea," the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly.

"I've had nothing yet," Alice replied in an offended tone, "so I can't take more."

"You mean you can't take less," said the Hatter: "it's very easy to take more than nothing."

― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Take a Hike!

The travel stories on this blog decided they wanted an exclusive page, all to themselves. So I told them to take a hike.

And this is where they went.

If you'd like to follow the Glenburn tales and other travel and touristy narratives, just click on the link. But forget not, to return to the usual mumbo jumbo on this blog!

Au revoir!

And then again, bienvenue!