Back to Earth

Was pleasantly surprised to receive some words of comfort and thoughtfulness today via sms. Yes, it's been some time since I last felt like someone cared on such a personal basis. One of the instructors from ymca dropped a message saying I didn't look good at all last Tues, and that she hardly sees me in so bad a shape. The toll of physical, mental and emotional toil, that's what it was. I remember that night .. forced myself to offer words of praise to the followers I danced with, though I was all empty inside. Drained, tired, disillusioned. That message really made my day.

Went to the barber's (did I mention I hate them?) and it was as bad as it could get - not a single customer, so he yakked away with me. I need some peace, m'dear. Not spared even during a haircut? Gosh.

Visited the shop next door after, had a warm chat with the lady boss and met a long-time acquaintance, a nurse working with a private GP.

All of a sudden, it's like - hey ... I left so much behind. Those people were from sweet innocence nearly 10 years back. And yet between these daily scramblings to get things in control, there still are these folks around ready for a down-to-earth chat, anytime.

And once again, visited Friendster on a whim. Tweaked the profile page, and I just HAD to visit a friend's page. Once more, I was stricken with a surge of grief. Old times, they're no more. Perhaps, the grass is always greener on the other side? Perhaps. Be thankful for what you already have, I've been told. We never could have the best of several worlds; sacrifice suddenly means so much more than what's been envisioned right at the start of this cold, lonely journey.

A - remember the conversation we had about looking back at our 3 years' worth of blogging? (ok, strictly 2 years + 1 day then) And you suggested that most probably, I'll find that nothing has changed much. I realised - no, something has changed. Just look at old photos - physically. Just looking at blog thoughts - deep inside. No more of that fun-loving angsty young adult. Where have my weekly cooking sessions with old NS friends gone to? What about excursions to the most unimaginable places at the unearthliest of times? I thought, it's most probably the diminishing of an alter ego, not so much of a general change. The other person I've ever been, he's lying dormant; suppressed by a negative feedback mechanism and restricted by torrents of stress. And this other person, the unsmiling, sad, serious man-to-be, is surfacing rapidly. More rapidly than I ever wanted him to. OK, such personal thoughts on a public medium, but then I'd otherwise have no other avenue to release such a frightful load of rubbish on.

I dearly miss the Rhododendron forests in Pokkhara. I still fantasize about a quiet grave amongst the cool, low mist shrouding those scraggly, decrepit trees. Perhaps, overgrown with white and pink lilies. Yes, that'd be perfect. Perfect.



p.s. Incidentally, I was chatting with a Nepalese patient last week; apparently Pokkhara has developed tremendously over the years. The Annapurna Base Camp is no longer the lovely picturesque mountainery we once went too. Boiling milo on that f*ed up Poon Hill .. took fricking forever to reach the top.