Hope I meet you in life again!
It was August 12 when I landed in Paris. I don't remember the exact sentiments, it was cold for 'summer', my definitions largely described by my equatorial temperament-13degree Celsius- and I knew somewhere K was celebrating his birthday. Another 5 hours to Los Angeles...and who knows what LA held in store for me? Just a few months ago, Darshi had proclaimed to all who would care to listen at a drunken pub, "This woman's gonna be celebrating her next Christmas in Los Angeles." God knows how far from the truth that was. I was gonna celebrate Christmas in Mangalore. Los Angeles was one big disappointment(just like every city before it): I was never happy and always locking myself away and shedding buckets of tears. Not because I missed home, but 'cause I missed everything that is Not-Los Angeles. I still can't I believe I lived there for as long as I did. That fucking shithole of a city. When I left, I didn't look back, I just grinned and went off to sleep on the flight to 'home. The Bay Area, home. Home, Bay Area. (When I landed in San Jose, excess baggage and all, the cabbie just looked me in the eye and greeted me, "Welcome home!" Whatever, dude. Take me to Morse Avenue, will you? Oh you missed meeting them by ten minutes. Oh well, what is there? Another moment I'm not witness to, did I miss something prodigal, momentous, extraordinary?)
And now I'm gonna pack bag and belongings, acceptances and denials and go 'home'. Who knows what's in store for me? But that's ok, I've always been my cynical self. Always wanting something more, something else. I'll make do with the moment till I find something else, someone else to distract me. Then I'll remember and rethink and all that shall not be forgotten-that, that and you- shall come back to haunt me. And I'll be the face in the window, watching the crowds wishing I were somewhere else in space, somewhen else in time.
I don't even know if I'm thinking this through, but really what have I to lose? Or what have I to gain? And really, who is to say where home is?
"Then in winter
when there is no leaf left
invent one"
Oh well.
*
There are truths. And then there are truths. Truths that are true and truths that we believe to be true.
"Then in winter
when there is no leaf left
invent one"
I'll invent a truth, and lead you to believe the truth. And you'll believe me, I'll believe it...and we'll play along. Never once acknowledging knowing what we know or trying to unknow what we already know. 'Cause that's life, remember?
And now I'm gonna pack bag and belongings, acceptances and denials and go 'home'. Who knows what's in store for me? But that's ok, I've always been my cynical self. Always wanting something more, something else. I'll make do with the moment till I find something else, someone else to distract me. Then I'll remember and rethink and all that shall not be forgotten-that, that and you- shall come back to haunt me. And I'll be the face in the window, watching the crowds wishing I were somewhere else in space, somewhen else in time.
I don't even know if I'm thinking this through, but really what have I to lose? Or what have I to gain? And really, who is to say where home is?
"Then in winter
when there is no leaf left
invent one"
Oh well.
*
There are truths. And then there are truths. Truths that are true and truths that we believe to be true.
"Then in winter
when there is no leaf left
invent one"
I'll invent a truth, and lead you to believe the truth. And you'll believe me, I'll believe it...and we'll play along. Never once acknowledging knowing what we know or trying to unknow what we already know. 'Cause that's life, remember?