Scribble Aloud

[nidhiwrites]

[nidhiwrites]

Traipse off

Time’s broke and it’s all still.

Laura has decreased her cooking frequency while cooking new recipes is keeping Aurore sane.

We have 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a spacious kitchen, a living room and a terrace. There’s a lot to clean. That’s how we are keeping track of time. I see myself spending more time in the detergent section nowadays.

The road to the supermarket daunts me. It’s desolated like an obscure cave. The queues are growing longer and tiresome. I am not sure I like it. I usually go in the mornings to save my share of preferred cookies. They make the long wait worth. The supermarkets provide us with gloves and make sure we maintain distance.

The other day I saw two friends reuniting at the supermarket. I wonder if it was a coincidence. I guess not. But in no time came a security personnel and they were asked to maintain distance.

Caution is the new needy friend. The one everyone had but forgot about and now he’s back in town and you have to hang out. Mind you, hanging out is out of question. It’s not usual anymore to see someone on the way. Let alone the random greetings.

It’s 1984 bis. The vocabulary is eliminating itself due to its lack of usage. And the Big Brother is ready to redefine the normal. He promises us that.

This paradigm plot-shift will divide lives and cultures into a before and after. A homesick before and an alarmed after. Everything  that seemed far fetched yesterday; arrives tomorrow. It’s a bullet shot. You can’t see it until it hits you.

The way back is always substantial. Too many thoughts and excess grocery than planned. I make sure I linger a bit longer every time. Home was just 3 cookies far. Well, now it’s 4 and a half.

[nidhiwrites]

[nidhiwrites]

The pandemic 2020

[nidhiwrites]

Café con leche

¡Todo un euro! We completed 50 years, said the café door.

50 years is a long time. I wonder if it’s changed at all or perpetual enough.

I push the cafe door and a strong smell of brewed coffee greets me. I look around and see all the signs of a typical Spanish café: Jamón on the side, 3 taps of Cruzcampo, freshly made churros, a pan of tortilla and football on the television set.

Un cafe con leche, porfa

Ahora! said the waiter.

As I look around, I guess the possible changes the cafe could have had. Discerning every wall like a new born scout.

“It was all black before”, says the waiter.

I smile and take my coffee to the corner seat near the window.

Stirring my coffee, I recall the two months passed. I tighten my grip on the cup, looking for more warmth. I vividly remember the feeling when my flight landed. It felt like an uprooted sapling trying to plant itself in an unknown land. Loosing grip of the known has never felt this daunting before. The soil felt less textured, the water; too sweeter and the air quite colder. Gradually, alienation grew less palpable and familiarity followed. Familiarity comes with a struggle. A struggle to own the place; to find comfort and to call it home again. You leave a part of yourself and take something new every time you lose your comfort. I wonder what I have lost. Maybe not yet. It’s a puzzle block trying to find its fit to complete the picture.

But I like the water now and I’ve learnt to seek warmth. The cafe learnt, I shall too.

The door opens and another customer comes in.

“2 cañas”, she says

I glance through the window, now the sky is orange and the sun has set. It’s already evening and the cafe will soon be packed. Coffees will be replaced by cañas and  gossips will spice up tapas. Yet again, football will be discussed and tortillas will be debated.

I gulp down the last bit of my coffee and ask for the bill.

“Hasta luego guapa”, he says as I leave.

The cafe had got its new regular customer and I had found my new comfort soil.

Dec 6, Cafe Bar Lago de Sanabria

[nidhiwrites]

Do it today. Take yourself out for a coffee. Wear that dress that’s been lying in your closet forever. Dress up, wear makeup. Pamper yourself.  Go to a random café. Order a coffee and make yourself comfortable.

Now look around. Smile at yourself. Sit in silence. Try and listen to the quiet. Try and listen to yourself. Let alone your deadlines, to-do lists, alarms, reminders. Slow down. Press pause.

Take a sip.

Ask yourself how you’ve been.

It’s not every day you ask this question. Ask it well, for today is not every day. Don’t worry if you don’t have an answer.

Just sit with yourself. Spend time with yourself. See how it feels to be with you. Take a minute and look how long you’ve come. Acknowledge it.

Because that’s where the answer lies.

[nidhiwrites]

Today

A long road empty road was all she always wished. Today, she was on one. No traffic, no horns, no smoke, no vehicles around. It was just the long empty road with her favorite song, a book, a pen and a bottle of wine. She felt peaceful. She was enjoying every bit of it. She was free. 

The everyday morning traffic made her sick. Frustrated red lights, honking cars, worried faces, everyone in a hurry to reach work on time. Work; she preferred to call it a monotonous routine. Reaching work with already a load of files on the table, yet greeting the boss with a smile, setting up the table, going through the pending files and finally having the first sip of your coffee. 

She was one of them. But not from today.

[nidhiwrites]

The Banana Leaf

I looked at the long green leaf amazed

Through the window on a Sunday morning haze

It looked at me, smiled and swayed

It felt like we shared a gaze

I kept looking at it like I always did

Childhood passed with the whistling wind

With the enormity of the leaf, my head went up

Ah! No much effort! I remembered I had grown up

Years passed and time went by

Friends changed, love ceased

But In your shade, I always found peace

I look back and wonder how things changed

Early morning I missed your gaze

Pictures make moments and moments create life

A picture of yours is all I need to call it life

When they asked where happiness lies

I looked through the window and gave a smile.

[nidhiwrites]

What Counts?

A fine Saturday morning, coffee on the table, newspaper beside and her glasses on it. I climbed down the stairs, took my seat at the table and helped myself serve the breakfast. Scrambled eggs, slightly toasted bread, mixed fruit jam and coffee. It was just another usual Saturday until the doorbell rang. I anticipated to get up but I was advised to sit back which implied not to behave too courteous trying to get away from the guilt of last night. I took the advice and sat back. She got up as if she was expecting someone. I wondered who? My parents? Had she told them about last night? Biting my nails, I glanced through the table to get the view of the door. Only If I could. I leaned back, took the first sip of my coffee and I heard her call my name. I was nervous. I didn’t know how to face my parents.

“Savannah, its the postman for you”, she said. Ah! The postman! I felt a sense of relief. I put the cup down and I frowned, was I expecting any letter? I tried to recollect each and every possibility of receiving a letter but nothing worth convincing. I heard her call me out again, this time in a bit harsh tone. I hurried to the door, signed the receipt and took the letter. I opened the letter and to my surprise it was from Kingston University. They had selected me for their Winter Internship Program. After few minutes of reading the appointment letter, I realized I was literally dancing and screaming. I felt elated. I was going to London! I was overjoyed.I looked at Mrs. James, she was looking at me too. I smiled at her and the alarm rang.

“Its 8 o’clock”, the alarm screamed. I got up and ran downstairs. Coffee on the table, newspaper beside and her glasses on it. Besides, there were two more plates laid on the table. My parents were here.

If you are happy in a dream, does that count?