last day away from my life
tomorrow i go back to my city.
My naani was gone for a couple of days, and she is back now. She is wearing an orange saree, she looks like those orange toffees you get so that you donāt get sick while travelling. I have only 24 hours left here, and then I will be back to my own city.
I love my city. I like walking around, looking at rich peopleās houses, watching people be in a rush. I think maybe because now I have some significant changes coming my way, no idea whether good or bad, I am feeling homesick. Ladybird, which is by the way one of the most āself-important films which isnāt really giving you a lot to work withā that I have seen, you have to bring your own experiences on the table to flesh the movie out ā which isnāt necessarily a bad thing, but I donāt want to work for entertainment. Not always. Anyways, in Ladybird, she walks along with her friend and looks at those dignified looking houses. Thatās what I used to do in 2019, which seems to be so far away. Maybe by 2029, I will have a beautiful house of my own, in a quiet neighbourhood, and I will go on long walks and come back and not be answerable to anyone. Maybe my pet cat. But thatās it.
One thing you should know about me is that I totally think about houses in a lustful way. If you were sitting next to me in the metro and asked me to tell you about something, I would definitely tell you about a house. Not necessarily my dream house but a house. The idea that we are contained in a vessel which is contained in a bigger vessel from time to time which is in turn contained in an even bigger sphere. This goes on and on right? Are we really inside a cowās stomach as the Hindus say? Iād rather we were in a whaleās. Maybe we are at the edge of the universe, we are the rejects. A beautiful world is out there, but out of our reach, in the middle. Highly likely, but only because I believe in the philosophy that humans have contorted humanity into an ugly ogre, and not a multi headed, multi limbed organism which moves in rhythm. Maybe I am wrong. God I hope I am wrong.
I am in love with houses. I love how they are a solid structure full of gaps to fit our lives in. It is important to have a house which loves you. If I come back home and thereās not a person to wait for me, my next solace would the cold marble floor which will simply feel like water when I lay on it and fall asleep, because my house will know. The lesson is this, we have to love every possibility and every thing which is in any ways an invention.
We are always looking for places to store things in. I store your love in my heart which is in turn put away in you who lives in my part of this world and this world is in turn tucked away in reality which is made up of so many different lives of so many different people. I love how everything can be broken down to mean something fundamental and how we have to figure out a specific way to bring it all together. Where do I fit in the - you guessed it - grand scheme of things?
Itās 18:35 right now. Itās raining. I am cold. Here are a few things I seem to recall, like waves crashing over and over with the inside of my head. The salinity of the water is stinging the walls of my head which is in turn ringing the hollows of my ears. If you saw me right now you would see a frowning twenty year old hunched over their laptop. here are the things, because, words are in abundance.
the forty something pages my father took a printout of for my scrapbook homework in second grade; it was about lions. the show Normal People. the word disingenuous, and how i want to use it for someone. i have reconnected with my friend M after a year; he has given up on phones and strictly uses a landline now. the utter terror which awaits all of us. a dead fly in my cup of tea that i encountered this morning, the dead grasshopper in my purse, the annoying mosquito in front of me right now. how i feel like crying right now. the weeds growing in the abandoned house next door, the definite voice of a ghost which beckons you inside.
What is my life but memories fluttering through the wind?
Thereās a hindi song āchura lo na dil mera sanamā which translates to āsteal my heart please lover.ā Thereās a line in it, after the girl ignores his pleas and his offer to give her his heart - he sings āmain keh raha hu kya, tu sun rahi hai kya; tu sun rahi hai kya, main keh raha hu kya?ā which is literally the same phrase reversed but the meaning changes! he says āIām saying one thing, youāre understanding it some other way; Are you even listening, what I am trying to say?ā The entire song is just him asking her to steal his heart and all she wants to know is why. I think itās a really sweet sentiment, he wants her to be aware of what she is doing to him.
The beauty of this song is how normal the setting is and how grand the lyrics are, in their own forthright manner. I personally enjoy domesticity a lot, especially when it is a makeshift kind. in this songās context, they donāt really live together, and she has work to do in the kitchen while all he can do is profess his love for her. I mean, isnāt that what it boils down to (if you boiled down my heart, it would turn soft pink and hard, like a candy, or an aventurine stone) - you want the grandness of love, but how can you possible escape the mundanity of life?
He tells her he can neither live without her, nor die and she mocks him and asks him if he could repeat himself a little loudly.
He replies with ākaha jo zor se, to chaaro oar se, hasenge hum pe sab, humare shor seā which! let me tell you about! He knows how the situation is nothing less than risible, she is chopping onions, he is jumping around declaring LOVE ME LOVE ME LOVE ME. He answers back - if I get any louder, other people will hear us and laugh at us because of this silly ruckus we (I) have created. Isnāt that just endearing?
sorry for being a fool and a romantic, and believing in love and bollywood.
thatās all for today like and subscribe first ten people get to know what angel form is in this season!
love!
ziggy
āyou want the grandness of love but how can you possibly escape the mundanity of lifeā thank you. thank you for writing this. š¤