i feel the need to write something...but i'm not sure what about. it's midnight, i have to get to work by 7 am, for which i have to wake up earlier still.
and i'm tired.
but i want to write- something, though i'm not sure what, so i'll keep typing and hopefully words will come and you, dear reader, will have another entry to comment about.
here goes
i listened to a lot of music tonight, and chatted with a boy. really good music too- gustavo santaolalla, check him out. this boy though, he's peculiar- rather my relationship with him is. I tell him this often, infact so often i'm sure by now he just smiles and nods, letting my words just pass over him.
We met when i was begining the 2nd grade. I had just moved back to the states from india and had brought much of it back with me- flamboyant fashion sense (which, to date, i've retained), a slight accent....detectable in my "h"s and "s"s, and- perhaps worst of all- i was loud and nosey.
he was, and still is, a very quiet boy(chubby, soda bodi glasses and this twisted sense of humor).
well, we clashed- and eventually we both moved away. i went to kentucky and he went to florida, but as chance would have it, we met again- about 8 years later, in NY, for new years eve. our hello was that night and goodbye the following morning. After a quick trip to the temple, i got in my car, he got into his and we drove off, in separate directions. I wasn't to see him again for another year or so- this time in washington DC. there was a reason, an engagement- my best friends. and he was nice enough to find his way south from school to attend it. 3 days- give or take half a day- of lasting memories.
haha, so long ago, really- so long ago.
and today many- break ups, make ups, tears and laughs- later, i think of him and wonder how in the world did i manage to keep in touch with him all these years.
I mean, i think back and since the 4th grade i've only seen him all of 3 times....for those of you who are math savvy, that's 3 times in about 13 years, since i am now in the17th grade ;)
anyway, i rarely see him. that's my point. I couldn't tell you how long his hair is, or what his favorite pair of sweats look like, or if he dances like an ape, or...well too many things. I mean, i wouldn't even know if he was laughing unless he tossed me an "lol"- more like a "haha", he never lol's.
our friendships's been an uphill climb against distance and timezones, and really- of all my friends i know the least about what he is.
but i know who he is, and i know he knows who i am, despite it all.
incredible, huh.
and i'm tired.
but i want to write- something, though i'm not sure what, so i'll keep typing and hopefully words will come and you, dear reader, will have another entry to comment about.
here goes
i listened to a lot of music tonight, and chatted with a boy. really good music too- gustavo santaolalla, check him out. this boy though, he's peculiar- rather my relationship with him is. I tell him this often, infact so often i'm sure by now he just smiles and nods, letting my words just pass over him.
We met when i was begining the 2nd grade. I had just moved back to the states from india and had brought much of it back with me- flamboyant fashion sense (which, to date, i've retained), a slight accent....detectable in my "h"s and "s"s, and- perhaps worst of all- i was loud and nosey.
he was, and still is, a very quiet boy(chubby, soda bodi glasses and this twisted sense of humor).
well, we clashed- and eventually we both moved away. i went to kentucky and he went to florida, but as chance would have it, we met again- about 8 years later, in NY, for new years eve. our hello was that night and goodbye the following morning. After a quick trip to the temple, i got in my car, he got into his and we drove off, in separate directions. I wasn't to see him again for another year or so- this time in washington DC. there was a reason, an engagement- my best friends. and he was nice enough to find his way south from school to attend it. 3 days- give or take half a day- of lasting memories.
haha, so long ago, really- so long ago.
and today many- break ups, make ups, tears and laughs- later, i think of him and wonder how in the world did i manage to keep in touch with him all these years.
I mean, i think back and since the 4th grade i've only seen him all of 3 times....for those of you who are math savvy, that's 3 times in about 13 years, since i am now in the17th grade ;)
anyway, i rarely see him. that's my point. I couldn't tell you how long his hair is, or what his favorite pair of sweats look like, or if he dances like an ape, or...well too many things. I mean, i wouldn't even know if he was laughing unless he tossed me an "lol"- more like a "haha", he never lol's.
our friendships's been an uphill climb against distance and timezones, and really- of all my friends i know the least about what he is.
but i know who he is, and i know he knows who i am, despite it all.
incredible, huh.
posted by Sound & Sense at 12:05 AM
5 Comments:
Dear Sadhana,
Peeping through your bedroom window I find a theme of black that is hardly becoming of you. You are a vibrant and energetic red, a nurturing and sometimes fanciful or indolent green and definitely a deeply rooted and earthy brown. Color you walls with these for the immediacy and intimacy of your person. Though you do not post a lot of messages you may this way provide your frequent visitiors with at least a spot of sunshine.
black is easy on the eyes...and calming to the heart. I chose it because i liked the stark emptiness it offers this page, offers me.
but, i suppose, some color could liven things up...maybe that's just what this page, and i, need.
I am bringing some red PAINT to your house for some colour. PAAAIIIINT.
I like the black. Although I am more of a blue person. Bah. That is all.
deep post sadhana. good post.
shyam
I could feel a throbbing sense of sincerity and genuiness in your writings. Although you've not mentioned it, i felt a under ping of nostalgia in your post. For what?? For you native land or For some one dear. Now talking about poems hear about one of my favorite lines 'Her beauty i never know; Until she smiled on me-Colridge (I guess so)' i think he is the son of the more famous Coleridg who wrote 'Solitary Reaper' and 'Xanadu'.
Anjana
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