If I were to write to you now

-
Dear y/n,

It has been a while since I sat down to write. It has been a long, long time since I sat down to write something to you. I miss you a lot, really. I feel like I don't say that enough to you - considering how much I really miss you.


I am taking each day as it comes, one thing at a time. But all of my days seem like they have meshed into one. There isn't much action, really. There isn't much change in every day routine. It has been that way for a while now - dunno how long... I haven't been keeping a record. 

But I do know that I have been watching a lot of sunsets. Almost feels like a compensation for all the years I missed taking in the sight. A lot of my sunsets for the past few years were spent doing last minute things at work, or in crowded bus rides, or in long walks home where I headed east. But now, I make time every day for sunsets. Some days, I sit and watch the sky change colors, just taking in the noise that the breeze brings in. Some days, I watch the clouds drift as I read my old notes. Some days, it rains - so I just listen to songs in my room and watch Oreo try to fall asleep. Some days, I dance around barefoot under the sky, the sun - my disco light, the breeze - my applaud, the plants my sole audience. Like, can you picture it? Me dancing?! Shocking, right? And what's crazier is that I actually enjoy it because my playlist isn't just a single genre, so I feel liberated to dance as crazy as I can.  

For over the past 7 years, I usually had to eat alone at home - which, you know, is my least favorite thing. But now, I get to eat with sometimes Baa, or Ama or my brother. And you know what's the strangest part of these meals, we usually watch Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern on the TV. Andrew is either pulling apart chicken feet or some bug or some sea creature while we gulp down mouthfuls of rice. Maa complains sometimes asking why a vegetarian wants to watch shows like these but still lets me watch it anyways. 

I saw an old couple when I went out a few days back. They were walking around in protective gear, and placed paper plates full of a well mixed maasu bhaat for the street dogs. It was a sight to see. I may/ may not have teared up a little at that. Just random little things...

Until I get to see you again, keep your warmth safe for me. I miss you!

Love,
Mamina



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Heart on my sleeves

-
What is it like to have your heart broken by yourself?  Nivedita said this to me two years or so back, that I wear my heart around in my sleeves - it's too easy for me to let anyone walk into my heart, step and waltz on it without a promise. She never said it was something bad. She just said she was worried that it would put me into a lot of hurt and pain one too many times. And she was true. She still is. But did I stop carrying my heart around in my sleeves? No, I didn't. I have just raised myself up to be someone who believes that the world will be a better place with more happiness and love in it rather than hatred and hard feelings. And, today here I am, 20 years old dreamer who walks around with her heart in her sleeves. Today, here I am, a giddy, light headed 20 year old girl who gets her heart broken one too many times. Most days, I don't have any complaints for myself about the way I am. But sometimes, I like to question - why does it have to be only me w...
Read more

At the Sea

-
Image
I always knew that I’d love the sea the minute I saw her. It felt like an obvious kind of love. No matter how distant or foreign we were to one another, the love felt destined. The morning that I saw her, dancing so close to the shore, love felt tangible. I could touch love and let her slip through my fingers. I could let love come to me. I could whisper gently to her. And I could let her know that I miss home. Over 5000 miles always from home, at the sea that I had yearned for so long, was where I actually realized I wasn’t at home. As the sea waves crashed at the rocks, I felt my heart sink with another yearning, this time, for home.
Read more

The Journey

-
This was my first international flight - the first time that I was moving away from home for the long haul.   When I saw the morning sun that day, the hills, the cloudy sky, the Kathmandu skyline that I am so familiar with, I wept. I thought of Baa, Aama and dai. I thought of my beautiful dogs who I miss so much (I have smiled at every dog I have passed by here and called them a sweetheart). As the day began, I felt rushed - weirdly, all my bags had been packed a while back. I just felt like I had a lot to do, lists of mental checklists to go through. The rush was real. But it didn't "hit" me at the airport like they said it would. It didn't hit me when I sat down for lunch that morning - a full plate of mam, dal and tarkari that Aama made for us. It didn't hit me when I sat with my dogs and held them close to whisper to them to be gentle and sit tight, nice and warm at home. It didn't hit me when family started coming in at home to see me off. At the airport,...
Read more