I'm there now.
The scribbles of a bored mind. Another person, another viewpoint. And another life that seems immensely complicated, but isn't really. Or perhaps it is simplicity that is a crime. Whatever.
It is my security blanket, my safety net, my strength. Like an anchor, it holds me and binds me to one place. Restless pacing aside, I cannot move. The length of the room is the further est I can let myself go before the anticipation of its coming, and the despair at missing it, calls me back.
It's one of those days, you know?
There was a disgusting school - or junior college on the way to the best bakery in the City. They had avoided it for months now, but Shema was allergic to eggs, and the only decent eggless cakes were in that bakery. They'd put their heads together and come to the conclusion, after much mulling over the pros and cons, that someone had to go order the cake. They found dates when at least three of them were free and made their way to the Bakery as rapidly as they could. Placed the order. Unanimously – and silently - decided to forget the message on the cake, just get it blank. Didn’t want one of their names said out loud – just in case. Ignored the stares from the small group of boys-men who were smoking just outside the sparkling glass front of the bakery. Left as soon as they could.
Her hair leaps into my hands, clinging to the plastic comb she hates. I let it go and immediately, like blown by some unseen wind, it rushes to cover her small round face. The cackle of static electricity sounds as I swap the comb for the hairbrush and run it through the length of the hair. There are no knots, but I continue brushing. Her little face shows extreme impatience, and she’s begun to shift around uncomfortably in the high backed wooden chair she sits on.
Do you see the moon today? Such celestial beauty cures all pain.. think of it, that little white sliver of silver shines sedately over and over me… and there is a connection – can you not feel it? Across the miles and through the fabric of time…
Twenty years up, and as anyone with Google or perhaps the right statistics can tell you - as an Indian Woman, I have 46.66 years to go. That’s one third gone… Today doesn’t feel any different from yesterday or the day before, but one more to the counter that man created when he chopped up time into what he considered as regular intervals. No earth shattering changes, no reassessment of life and a change in the way I live or am treated, really.