Back to work, some semblance of normal life hopefully I’ll learn to write for myself again, bigger pages mean bigger ideas I should buy a notebook the size of my room, sleep in the fold of a page, write words with my body language burn thoughts into the page that can be seen from space. Back to life here. Back to tight-fisted purse-clenching watching my foot on the gas to save the gas to save the money, pulling with all my might to make the ends meet. I’m used to it. Doesn’t mean I like it.
People jabber and talk jive non-stop over here so I plug up my ears like I’m building a house with my own two hands. They jitter and titter on about nothing. And me-
“it’s so quiet here”. “boy, it’s sure weird to be home.” “India was good-yeah, it was amazing. So many incredible experiences”. “I definitely wanna go back”.
You forget the meaning of an experience when you continue to go on about it in a meaningless way. I would say.
But these streets are sure bare.
I says to K, I says, I don’t know why people say Vancouver has no character… it definitely has a character, I just don’t know if I like it. Rainy day coffee shops and hybrid crosses between yuppies and hippies in fleeces and lulus skiers and sailors in late-model cars so laaii-id back, so polite, Canada bland and character lite. There’s not a lotta colour here the pallet is blue and gray. Not much I should say when I’m as dry as the rest of these crackers. Broken or fixed. Broken or fixed.
It’s good to be home.
But it’s hard to concentrate. All this jabbering.
* * *
I can’t wait to go back to Bombay someday. It already feels like a clamorous muffle behind me, around the corner.
Echoes for a while, I’m sure.
These echoes are mine but it’s like trying to clutch time by the love-handles. Slippery past. Fish-skin memories.
These experiences sew themselves inside you though, a tailored onion-skin; We grow inwards. Inward-growing onions, skin by skin. Peel by peel.
I hope this’ll be a layer I can taste until my last breath.
India.
It’s not an ending if I’m starting again.
Another circle around the centre, the peel forming.
It’s not an ending if I’m starting again.
That's starting to make some sense now.
4 comments:
Wow felt good to read you love to be back in India...is chennai on your list too?
Sounds like you fell in love with Bombay, like the rest of us. I totally understand the bareness of life here in comparison to there.
Check out my story on the local trains at my blog.
It was good chatting with you. I would love to meet up sometime if we are in the same part of the world!
Meenakshi (AVSAR)
Hello Adrian and Katya,
Don't want to make you guys jealous, but we're back... in India that is. Now in Manali, Himachal Pradesh. Tried to reach you on your Indian cell phone, but it's off, obviously, since you're back in Vancouver. We don't have your e-mail so, if you like, could you send us a message on alain.grootaers@mac.com? We'd love to hear from you again and share our experiences (without jabbering of course ;-) on the subcontinent.
Stay well,
Alain, Jakobien and Julia (from Ranthambore Tiger Park)
PS We listen to your songs very often, Julia and Jackie love 'Marianne'.
Bye!
hey adrian,
i really like your blog. i plan on going to india in the fall, so it is cool to read your journal now and i just finished shantaram which is a cool description of the country. and i, like you, feel like my head will explode if i do not write.
i hope you don't mind, i have shared your quote about vancouver on my facebook - giving you credit of course. your words are similar to the way i feel about our city.
kat
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