Its been awhile. Too long, really. In everything that’s changing, I must not lose sight of who I am. In the wet and green and gentle blue of Bangalore, I must leave traces of me.
And, so, here I am again. Cozied up in a tiny Bangalore apartment, home now, or somewhere between house and home…white walls without photos, blue shelves with unread books. I hardly read to sleep. I do turn up the music though, fall asleep over an email, wake up with a hundred things to do. Every single day.
I’m tired, though. I’m tired and terribly in love with all that I’m doing, and exhausted from being in all of this all alone.
Its been nearly three years now, three years of pushing my way through hospitals and doctors and queues and cemeteries and grief and deadlines and meetings and office ranks and agencies and work, and I’m a little more in love and a little more tired each day.
They say that when you write and when you pray, you bring your truest self. And so I write as if in prayer, and maybe the old man up there is listening….
I could use some help too! And perhaps for the first time, admittedly, a lot of it 🙂
I have fallen in love with the Spanish Omelette and Koshys, BTW.