Today I had a picnic in a park, all too complete with a trail of ants. My dear-hearted Lara and I picked up some bread and fruit and sweets and made some space for ourselves on a green bench.
Kolkata at night is my favorite. Perhaps because its swollen and slow-moving, having eaten too much rice for dinner. Maybe because at night you see labourers and lovers taking a slight break from the cares of the day. Maybe because cities at night make me want to wander into a small cafe and chat till morning.
I feel sort of flimsy these days. I'm overwhelmed by my own thoughts and the complexity of this woven life which in truth, I was never asked to unravel. I'm walking around in sackcloth and ashes. It's a hurting unlike what I've felt here so far. It's not acute or emotional. It's sort of numbing. I'm grieving the abandonment that has taken root in the children at Shanti Dan. I'm grieving the loss of autumn. I'm wishing I could share two things with my sister: an americano and the beauty of morning prayers to God through Our Lady, Mary. I smell like playdough and sweat. It seems like just when you find joy and contentment, it slips away. Ocean waves. Such is life. I'm going to wait with sandy, salt crusted feet. I'm here, whenever you want to wash back my way.
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2 comments:
"I'm here, whenever you want to come back to me."
Just as we are here patiently waiting, whenever you want to come back to us. Much love from the states.
In the words of Over The Rhine, "And if the music starts before I get there, dance without me. You dance so gracefully. I really think I'll be okay."
I watched a boy on his roof...zig-zagging a kite around...the breeze was blowing and things felt okay.
thankyou.
(no sorries)
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