Knock Knock!

Point Pelee – the southernmost tip of mainland Canada

“Who’s there?”

No – I am serious. I am sure for quite a few people, this post will come as a shock. Maybe some vague recollections that there was someone who was lazy enough to call themselves an Armchair Perfectionist and then made a run for it because words became scary.

So hello, if you are still here. I went AWOL before the pandemic, and funnily enough I don’t really recollect how time worked then. It has been one big blob where masks, work-from-home, physical distancing became a habit and I steadfastly refused to open my eyes and look at the world that was once home. It’s so funny, I started writing because I needed to get away, then I stuck to it because of this amazing supportive community and then I ran because the mere thought of writing a word that didn’t pay bills made me breathless. I come back, older, plumper and probably not wiser.

I completed three years in Canada last month. D and I bought a condo last year and we have become a little too familiar it thanks to the longest lockdown. But it’s home with a pretty solid kitchen, and by the lake with tons of trails. What else? I turned 30 as well, but since it happened in the pandemic I might get away by calling myself 29.99 for a bit.

I too, baked a lot of banana bread and tried different recipes. I too, started day drinking and realized it’s not sustainable. I too, enthusiastically did home workouts for a bit before resigning to the fact that the tummy wants what it wants. Work threw in a promotion last year and has been paying the bills, and to be fair the long hours helped numb the few things that still raised their heads and tried to make me accountable. That said, work mates have been pretty awesome. As an introvert, I thought this was my time to shine and simply focus on my work but instead it gave me a chance to form some great relationships. I was one of the few people who was using Zoom before it was cool so I scoffed at all the Zoom memes but couldn’t help but stay ridiculously entertained by this incident “(I am here live – I am not a cat!)”.

Summer has been weird and damp (thank you Colin for clarifying that this is unusual for you as well), but I got a ton of hikes in. I cannot get over the fact how green this beautiful city is and you have a broad selection of parks within minutes of the city. But perhaps August will be great. All I need is one clear night this week to catch the Perseid meteor showers.

I want to end this with an apology to the kind people of this community and this dormant-no-more blog. No amount of “it was for my mental health” will excuse the way I abandoned this baby. I want to thank each and everyone who dropped comments on posts asking after me. I want to make up. I want to talk. I want to write.

Thank you for listening and I would love to hear from you 🙂

Advertisement

Helping Hand

hope
Image: Prateek Gupta

Why do we fall, Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up. – Thomas Wayne (Batman Begins)

Just to be safe, let’s practice yelling as loudly as possible for a rope-ladder.

I love rising out of ashes stories. That journey of climbing out of the pit, brushing down the muck and moving on with life’s lemons? Oh yes.. count me in as I add some tequila into the mix. Funnily enough, I commit the heinous crime of overlooking the lifelines and cooling stations in my own story, not that there were any significant ashes.

Like a bitter pill, I spit out my pride and zip up my mouth. A stubborn misconception plagues me that requesting help makes you weak! It keeps me from taking the first step and admit that maybe, I cannot do this alone. Obviously, it comes with a cost of bewildered family and friends that justifiably feel hurt. Even if they cannot give a hand they can always lend an ear, right?

I am also a hypocrite as when someone else does the exact same thing – I am sense & sensibility personified. Turn the tables and there will be a me-shaped hole in the door… Classy, I know!

I am serving a life sentence for this. At least the prison isn’t empty – in fact, it is probably a fire hazard at this point. 

I took my sweet time getting used to counting on someone. Getting married helped. Funny how long it took me to realize that asking for help is the first step in becoming a bigger person. Funny how late I realized the amazing liberty of pestering someone and they will unconditionally be there to carry you through. Did you know they even get you ice-cream? If you did, why didn’t any one tell me sooner? I was missing out.

Oh to have the compassion of the helper and the strength of the … helpee? I am struggling with the maths here. 

Check out Erika’s infinitely brilliant take on this

Sepia

img_0575.jpg

That’s the thing about old friends. Instinct becomes your first and only language when emotions stay shrouded behind cooled gestures.

There are layers anew to peel off, bespoke of tense energy. But unexpectedly, a collision opens a floodgate of unspoken sentiments that simmer for an instant. Time goes back and in your heart you know that there can never be a second round. But you imagine a once over, desperate to pick out an alternative where barriers don’t need to be broken down, where your laugh is louder than the wind and the music isn’t a sanctum of restrained emotion.

But time doesn’t stop and the last vestiges of the sparks remain in the pointed scrawls lurking in the latent mind and the splinters of memories tinged with sepia.

Exalt

img_3671.jpg

I laugh and float leisurely,

The waves effortlessly carry my weight,

Of dreams and desires, of yearnings and passions, of joys and euphoria.

I dissolve into the salts of the ocean,

Nameless and formless like the ones before me,

With the same sigh of relief and perhaps a different gasp of rapture.

I ride out the wave of joy until it consumes me.

Not a wisp remains of my existence for that beat of time,

And the tide slows to a heartbeat, as the earth’s axis rights itself.

In that moment, I am only unbridled happiness


 

Mirror #writephoto

Are those cracks in the mirror or is that just me?

Is there even a difference anymore between what’s real and what’s just a leak in my imagination?

Do I even care?

How two-faced have I become?

A complete stranger.

The lights don’t do much good either,

Unearthly rays pass right through me,

Creating a sifted halo around me that does not belong.

My existence feels inconsequential.

Yet, a victim of narcissism’s muse.

I get sucked into my own reflection

Drowning in the pool to become one.


Linking up with Thursday Photo Prompt at Sue’s.