The greatest test of courage on earth is to bear defeat without losing heart.
~ Robert Green Ingersoll
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Back to Winter
Of course, it was silly to think that I would fall if I walk on icy road after a one year break. After all, I grew up here, in this country with four seasons, since a kid, I was very good at aiming snow balls and my shoes almost would have holes from sliding the slops and bumps through the winter. So this time when I was back, once my legs went split, but after that I was always in control!
Nieces and Aunts
I think nieces should know the price of having aunts around.
Each time I come home she is asleep under her new pink blanky and I lie down near and stare at her, then shower her with kisses and squeeze her and yes…she is up by then! A little bit disoriented and trying to sleep again but nope…not this time…no sleep when aunt is here, otherwise how do you know my presence and that I love you and what memories can we share?
And you can sleep when I am gone, until one day I am back again…
I think nieces should know the price of having aunts around.
Each time I come home she is asleep under her new pink blanky and I lie down near and stare at her, then shower her with kisses and squeeze her and yes…she is up by then! A little bit disoriented and trying to sleep again but nope…not this time…no sleep when aunt is here, otherwise how do you know my presence and that I love you and what memories can we share?
And you can sleep when I am gone, until one day I am back again…
Fluidity of Times
A little fear and anxiety slip in my heart when I return to the place where I learnt walking and grew into my youth.
Most of the times I am informed about changes and some of them in much detail, but in the fluidity and rapidity of days it is only when I am face to face I catch the dim look on the wrinkled face of my mom, I pass without recognizing this stylishly dressed in red young girl who grew into her forms, and once I held her in my hands. And some faces I don’t see any more. They just flash across suppressed by recent images and memories. The cry of a newborn baby, on whose life I will be updated from now on, brings me back to the present. And life continues and I hope that next time when I am back and see you that we will connect, because I held you tight on my chest and you burped on me, and I did not mind when you dribble wet my shoulder…
A little fear and anxiety slip in my heart when I return to the place where I learnt walking and grew into my youth.
Most of the times I am informed about changes and some of them in much detail, but in the fluidity and rapidity of days it is only when I am face to face I catch the dim look on the wrinkled face of my mom, I pass without recognizing this stylishly dressed in red young girl who grew into her forms, and once I held her in my hands. And some faces I don’t see any more. They just flash across suppressed by recent images and memories. The cry of a newborn baby, on whose life I will be updated from now on, brings me back to the present. And life continues and I hope that next time when I am back and see you that we will connect, because I held you tight on my chest and you burped on me, and I did not mind when you dribble wet my shoulder…
Friday, March 02, 2007
Like Little Ants
When the bell rings they rush through the corridor pushing each other. Just few of them, and usually girls, among those who are older, keep themselves proper, walking slowly by the side of the wall. If given a chance, with a grain of irritation, breaking out of "politeness" and "example" they push aside two or three of these noisy little ones, usually boys, who want to roll out of the building as soon as possible.
When the bell rings they rush through the corridor pushing each other. Just few of them, and usually girls, among those who are older, keep themselves proper, walking slowly by the side of the wall. If given a chance, with a grain of irritation, breaking out of "politeness" and "example" they push aside two or three of these noisy little ones, usually boys, who want to roll out of the building as soon as possible.
And then, in small batches of three to five, and even seven, they walk down the streets chattering about the day. On their backs, it seems forever stuck, they carry enormous bags, stuffed with books or grain...or... bricks? Some of their bodies are a little bit more then a meter from the ground and they are weighted down with the "source of knowledge" - notebooks and textbooks. Few of them I saw had to push forward, as though they pull the whole truck of sand behind. But nobody promised educating process to be easy, and so here they toil.
I noticed how two of them broke from the rest and walked towards the fence, and there, on the other side, a girl waved at them, inviting them inside.
Since he is a boy, and boys always have to be the first, he took his chance to get through the fence first - only to get stuck, his little body could easily slip through the aperture, but his bag could not make it through. His sister or maybe his friend on this side tried pushing him, while another girl pulled his hands. I watched them and could not resist but intervene, so I lifted his bag and pushed him in. Immediately his friend followed him and I performed the same for the girl as her bag was even bigger!
"Thank you, aunty!" - in three they shouted beaming and giggling.
I just smiled and happily went home hoping that it was a safe place for the kids to be and assuming that they had slightly different plans for the afternoon. After all, children deserve some change in their daily school-home routine, and I hope they were back home by the time mom returned from work.
I just smiled and happily went home hoping that it was a safe place for the kids to be and assuming that they had slightly different plans for the afternoon. After all, children deserve some change in their daily school-home routine, and I hope they were back home by the time mom returned from work.
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