
if i look back, i am lost
Claire Keane
Show & Tell

JVL

⁂
trying on a metaphor
noise dept.
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
h
Monterey Bay Aquarium
AnasAbdin

JBB: An Artblog!

#extradirty
Game of Thrones Daily

No title available
No title available
sheepfilms
ojovivo
Sade Olutola
One Nice Bug Per Day
seen from United States

seen from Indonesia
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States

seen from Australia

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Indonesia
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
@bisilukolu
I don't like cats, but I am living with seven of them in my premises.
Domsaw, a lovely place.
Hills are breathing. Green grass is thriving. Monsoon is my favourite season, no doubt.
I suck at prioritising people in my life. I take the people who love me for granted and treat them in a way which I myself hate, without even realising. I got a call from a loved one to ask a doubt regarding something I started and I yelled without thinking. I am so ashamed. The worst part is I have immense patience for people who don't care for me, ill treat me, take advantage of me and dump me after their work is done. I receive their calls and sweet-talk to them. I am so polite and go out of my way to help them when I already know they are shitty people.
I am the worst.
I am home. Home home. It's 12 noon and what all I had after getting up?!
One cup of chai, strong and not very milky. Half a dozen idli with chicken curry and coconut chutney. Two alu bonda with matar masala and chutney. One piece of sweet dish called saati which I have not come across in any other place. One nandini sweet lassi. Sweet and salty lemon juice.
Now waiting
for lunch. Ganji, the best food. Fish curry. Fish fry. Dry fish chutney. Beans palya. Mango sasikai. Mango pickle. Fresh juicy mangoes. Mallika and other variety mangoes.
for 4pm chai. Misal bhaji. Khaara. Toast. Egg puffs. Banana chips. Bundi laddu. A cup of hot kashaya.
for dinner. My favourite. Prawns biryani. Prawns masala fry. And everything that is leftover.
It's spring. We are going all out.
I receive berries from kind colleagues. Tofu hides behind the grass. The plants bloom. Dead grass is alive. Bugs come out on the road. The colours are colouring.
Spring is the season. I can't wait for summer. I am a summer child. I thrive in the heat.
I have gone silent. I suffer alright, but I don't document. I don't want to leave behind the trail of my lowlife - utterly petty, increasingly jealous, and deeply insecure. I have a decent life. If I am not satisfied by that, I can't save myself out of this misery. I don't have words.
I had lost my voice for a few days.
My body gives up in so many ways.
I had hit a few personal and professional milestones in the past months if we can call that. But I could not celebrate even in a small way. I felt exhausted. There's no substitute for this tireless work to get certain things done, when one doesn't come from privilege. No accomplishment can feel enough. No success gets self acknowledged. One has to work nonstop and wear out emotionally to reach anywhere near normalcy.
I was forced to purchase two beautiful sarees at Kolkata airport during layover. I got them without any willingness and didn't feel like I deserved any of such things.
This job. Endless. Thankless.
Beautiful stay. Just that I had to attend 12 hours long sessions for work and came to the cottage at midnight to crash.
In winter, I forget summer.
I still have not unpacked. But office work is going on full swing. There's no time to transition. As I thought years ago, there's no preparation for life. This is life.
The cardboard boxes, the random office clothes, socks with considerable number of holes, broken furniture, boots one size small, bloody toes, dry skin, backache, invisible heaviness of being. This is life.
Nothing is going to suddenly change tomorrow. There's no tomorrow. When tomorrow comes, it's no longer tomorrow. The back breaking work I am doing today is what I have. This is life.
I am back in the khasi hills. I am freezing as I transition from the fringe plain belts to the core of Meghalaya. I had stayed in Mussoorie, Guwahati, Dibrugarh, Shillong, Sohra, and Ampati in past five years.
Even then, shifting base is hard. It overwhelmes me, disorients me. I can't find that bloody toothbrush.
Watching the sun rise from the crater of a volcano is just...
Before it all began.