I write. Sometimes. No correct that. Rarely. Only when I feel like it.
So when Jo asked me last week to pen a couple of lines about the fall pictures I posted, I gave a tongue in cheek response instead of telling her I cannot turn it on and off. The desire to write or paint. That I do very well all the time – give tongue in cheek responses I mean . Good I never made a profession of writing or painting. I would be out of pocket all the time. I should have made a profession of giving tongue in cheek responses but then not everybody appreciates my humor.
I was humbug enough to believe I was the arty type once upon a time, but the truth is I have always been a hard headed practical person. Even when my heart was broken into a million pieces I was thinking of how to pick things up and start again. Quietly, scientifically, practically.
So what makes me write today? Random things. Extreme feelings. Deep anger, deep sorrow, deep appreciation of my blessings, unexplained feelings for things I still do not understand. Like death.
It is Monday today that not very good day of the week. My day started when I was in the vice like grip of something that felt like a hangman’s noose and yet oddly comforting. It was about 3 am .It was my daughter probably in the grips of a nightmare as a result of all that trick or treating.. I fell into a fitful sleep after that wondering if I should call my husband in India and take an update on dad’s operation. I looked at my blackberry and saw the dear man had posted an update. To me and other silent beings on this earth. I was mad at these silent beings. And sorry for Amit. That’s how my day started. Most of my long commute was spent in talking to him and then the kids. As usual, he talked me out of my anger. I looked out of the window in wonder to see a car pass by with at least 3 inches of snow on its roof. Took my thoughts in a completely different direction. It had been a fairly bright weekend. Where was he coming from?
Surprisingly, even though there was this massive crash on 401, I reached Finch before time and hopped on to the Viva blue to sit in front of a shivering lady from Jamaica. She was very interested in the recipe for Palak Paneer which I obligingly wrote down for her- giving her tips on how to make it more tasty and shamefully salivating at that early hour for a dish I do not even like! My body like my mind acts in really unpredictable ways sometimes! And all my hardheaded practicality cannot figure that out.
I had time to pick up a frothy coffee from Country Style and marvel at all these Canadians bundled up. Was it really that cold? Or was my new peacoat that warm? At work, I was actually happy to see people who usually do not bring out the best in me and beavered away at my computer. I suddenly felt like writing to Nahida after a long time. So I did in between many interruptions and a meeting I did not know why I was attending.
I caught up with the project gossip over lunch and then took myself and my blackberry for a walk. I felt like the Fat Man who walks alone. Don’t ask me what that means. It is a graffiti I see everyday and feel sorry for the Fat Man.
By now, I’m sure you are seeing the halo round my head? The palak paneer recipe giver, the patient listener to office gossip, the good friend to Nahida and of course the Fat man who walks alone to lose these unwanted pounds? I suddenly take an impulsive picture and post it on facebook. More goodness for the world. The halo gets a deeper hue.
Then I suddenly see the date and remember. This used to be a special day for me . How many years ago? The halo has disappeared and I feel like connecting with Nahida again. And then see the last posting she has made. About Ms. Meera passing away.
Less than two months ago Ms. Meera had called me – sounding as excited as a school girl. She wanted to talk to my kids. She asked me to tell them about her. I promised her they would. I remember another promise I had made to Sarita’s mother about coming back to see her in Lucknow. And I see myself now as someone who could not keep promises. Where did they go? Can they hear me? Feel my regret? I so want to know.
So that was my Monday-blue Monday-green Monday-yellow Monday-blue and purple Monday. What color was yours?
