She nourishes, she heals
A nurse, a doctor
She is both and still so much more
A teacher and the pupil,
The learner and the learned
She's a princess, a hermit
And all thats in between
The Virgin, The Martyr,
The Saint and the Witch...
A dreamer, a realist
The wanderer and the woods
She's a woman, a girl
A mother, a child...
The healer and the wounded
The soldier, the sacrifice
A pen, a story... a mystery indeed...
Friday, January 18, 2008
Friday, January 4, 2008
So much for Salsa!!!
I had to admit, how much ever I said that it didn’t bother me that Raj was all over me… it did; it so did! I never really felt any romantic feelings towards him, but since I knew how he felt about me, he was my ultimate back-up plan. God! I could curse myself for being such a bitch! I deserved where I was, all my best friends either getting engaged or on the family way… and me, as hopelessly single as Edith, the woman who played her worn down guitar for some change. No, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t that big a bitch to be actually jealous of them…I was happy for all of them, very happy, just sad for myself… actually, mini-depressed for myself. I had always had the most entertaining love-lifes in the history of love lifes! Not in the sense that would make girls go ‘Awww!’; but in the sense that would make anyone go, ‘Whoaa! Where did that come from?!’.To put it simply, I am not a nymphomaniac and what’s more, I am terrible at commitments; which to urban understanding is- I was bound to be single for a long long time!
My idea of fighting depression was walks, long walks in places I have never seen. I wandered aimlessly for hours. My favorite haunt was this little place near the beach. It was a bunch of hutments near the beach, the roofs were red and blue fishing nets hung on the door. The doors were almost always open. There were crude wooden racks in the front yard, obviously improvised, where fish were hung to dry. Right below the rack on a white sheet prawns were set to dry which would then be salted and pickled or stored at home for special recipes. These people had a life of their own! Even the air smelled different, that may have to do with the freshly caught fish… but yet it was peaceful being so close to the city which never sleeps, this place almost always day-dreamed and napped. Often I got lost walking through the little by lanes and had to ask the locals directions to civilization.
It was a Tuesday, as boring as Tuesdays could get… and I decided to walk to the beach and then to my discovered place (I visit this place often but I didn’t yet know its name). As usual I set out to wander around without purpose, when I noticed a little lane which I had never noticed before and took of that way. There were fewer houses here. I could see a lot of buildings at a distance but nowhere near. There were sparse houses and another lane which was cobbled and cute, but visibly artificial and new. I was curious and took off along this cute roadette, (it was small, I am used to make words of my own). It ended at a gate which stood in front of a cute duplex, red-roofed house. It was painted white and was the cutest house I had ever seen! But I knew somehow it wasn’t a house. The door wasn’t locked, either ways I didn’t knock.
As I opened the door, the sound of the Spanish guitar filled my ears… it was that song from Dirty Dancing 2 ‘Guijira’. I hated the movie but the songs would make me sway my hips in a way that would scandalize my mother. The music came from this huge room whose enterance I could see, slowly I made my way to the door. I could here people laughing and someone shouting “5, 6… 5, 6,7”. There were colorful skirts flying gracefully in one direction. There were couples, girls in skirts and stilettos and guys in shirts and flat shoes. It was some kind of ballroom dance which whenever shown on T.V would become a part of your ‘Things To Do Before 30’ list (I had one). I was mentally highlighting the part in my list about the dance I was going to learn before I am 30 when the person who was giving instructions loudly to all the dancers stopped yelling and looked in my direction. He was tall and well-built, with a Puerto Rican tan and had sea-green eyes!! His shirt was unbuttoned up till his first set of abs (yes he had a 6 pack!). I almost lost my breath when he smiled and waved at me to join them! I stepped unsurely towards the dance floor when he took my hand and yelled, “5,6…5,6,7, back basic… crossbody...” and some other words which I wasn’t sure of because he was dancing with me! When I didn’t even know what dance it was! Yet, I tried to follow his lead; since he made distinct hand movements and gave me slight pushes for me to know where my hand should be and where I should go!
It was the best dance I had ever danced!! Well, atleast I wasn’t mini-depressed now… I had found a new stress buster. Now, I mentally ‘checked’ my ‘Things To Do Before 30’ list, I would be learning this dance well before the big 3-O strikes… my saviour was Salsa and ofcourse, Juan!! Wish me luck!! ;)
My idea of fighting depression was walks, long walks in places I have never seen. I wandered aimlessly for hours. My favorite haunt was this little place near the beach. It was a bunch of hutments near the beach, the roofs were red and blue fishing nets hung on the door. The doors were almost always open. There were crude wooden racks in the front yard, obviously improvised, where fish were hung to dry. Right below the rack on a white sheet prawns were set to dry which would then be salted and pickled or stored at home for special recipes. These people had a life of their own! Even the air smelled different, that may have to do with the freshly caught fish… but yet it was peaceful being so close to the city which never sleeps, this place almost always day-dreamed and napped. Often I got lost walking through the little by lanes and had to ask the locals directions to civilization.
It was a Tuesday, as boring as Tuesdays could get… and I decided to walk to the beach and then to my discovered place (I visit this place often but I didn’t yet know its name). As usual I set out to wander around without purpose, when I noticed a little lane which I had never noticed before and took of that way. There were fewer houses here. I could see a lot of buildings at a distance but nowhere near. There were sparse houses and another lane which was cobbled and cute, but visibly artificial and new. I was curious and took off along this cute roadette, (it was small, I am used to make words of my own). It ended at a gate which stood in front of a cute duplex, red-roofed house. It was painted white and was the cutest house I had ever seen! But I knew somehow it wasn’t a house. The door wasn’t locked, either ways I didn’t knock.
As I opened the door, the sound of the Spanish guitar filled my ears… it was that song from Dirty Dancing 2 ‘Guijira’. I hated the movie but the songs would make me sway my hips in a way that would scandalize my mother. The music came from this huge room whose enterance I could see, slowly I made my way to the door. I could here people laughing and someone shouting “5, 6… 5, 6,7”. There were colorful skirts flying gracefully in one direction. There were couples, girls in skirts and stilettos and guys in shirts and flat shoes. It was some kind of ballroom dance which whenever shown on T.V would become a part of your ‘Things To Do Before 30’ list (I had one). I was mentally highlighting the part in my list about the dance I was going to learn before I am 30 when the person who was giving instructions loudly to all the dancers stopped yelling and looked in my direction. He was tall and well-built, with a Puerto Rican tan and had sea-green eyes!! His shirt was unbuttoned up till his first set of abs (yes he had a 6 pack!). I almost lost my breath when he smiled and waved at me to join them! I stepped unsurely towards the dance floor when he took my hand and yelled, “5,6…5,6,7, back basic… crossbody...” and some other words which I wasn’t sure of because he was dancing with me! When I didn’t even know what dance it was! Yet, I tried to follow his lead; since he made distinct hand movements and gave me slight pushes for me to know where my hand should be and where I should go!
It was the best dance I had ever danced!! Well, atleast I wasn’t mini-depressed now… I had found a new stress buster. Now, I mentally ‘checked’ my ‘Things To Do Before 30’ list, I would be learning this dance well before the big 3-O strikes… my saviour was Salsa and ofcourse, Juan!! Wish me luck!! ;)
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