Shubnum Khan's Blog, page 5

A Moment (from the third morning in China)

On my third morning I went up to the roof with Marlies and it was still winter so the restaurant was closed and we had jackets on even though the sun was shining and we sat on chairs and looked out at the river and in the distance I could see cruise ships and barges and Marlies was smoking and she told me that once they had filled in Petra's details wrong while she was in Seoul and I had to be careful and I was trying to remember everything she was saying. The beach even had wifi, she said. But remember to make sure all the information is correct on your forms or you could be stuck there. And I was so nervous, so afraid, my hands tucked into my jacket as I looked into the river. All the information collected in my head, in pockets and pieces and I wondered if I could ever make that journey and they all said I could, but they were not me. And I was so tired from all that planning in my head, all that preparation and constant guard. When I returned, I refused to go anywhere, stayed home and even later when I could leave, I was still exhausted and even now, I still am, so tired to even think beyond the day.

A Moment (from the third morning)

On my third morning I went up to the roof with Marlies and it was still winter so the restaurant was closed and we had jackets on even though the sun was shining and we sat on chairs and looked out at the river and in the distance I could see cruise ships and barges and Marlies was smoking and she told me that once they had filled in Petra's details wrong while she was in Seoul and I had to be careful and I was trying to remember everything she was saying. The beach even had wifi, she said. But remember to make sure all the information is correct on your forms or you could be stuck there. And I was so nervous, so afraid, my hands tucked into my jacket as I looked into the river. All the information collected in my head, in pockets and pieces and I wondered if I could ever make that journey and they all said I could, but they were not me. And I was so tired from all that planning in my head, all that preparation and constant guard. When I returned, I refused to go anywhere, stayed home and even later when I could leave, I was still exhausted and even now, I still am, so tired to even think beyond the day.

How It Feels To Be Living

I want to say, I feel a lot more now.

When someone says, come, I do.

When someone lets go, I fall.

I am in every moment, in everything.

And so this is how it feels

to be living.

A Moment (from tonight)

Today, while talking to aunty R, I remembered Gorikhala, her nod, her bashful way of crossing legs over at the ankles, her cheeky grin and overwhelmed, I smile, nod, my eyes threatening to spill over. And she too is quiet, waiting for something. How slowly she walks. She tells me it is hard. This world is a blink of the eye, I say and I think she knows I mean well.

And the world is changing, death at doors, change around corners, new life too and the things I thought I would not miss I do, and the things I thought I would, I don't.

Age stands ahead, bowed, there is a sunset at the corners of my world.

A Moment (from the chips aisle)

Once in a mall I went to to look at a shelf a young man had passed. And I found that I kept returning to the spot pretending to inspect the shelf because he had left his perfume behind and it was the perfume of young men who can't afford better. And instantly I was reminded of high school and boys and awkward glances and teachers and dressing for school and occasionally getting the strong scent of cheap aftershave at the morning assembly.

The scent of youth and hope and a life lived hard for.

And so I stood in the chips aisle, still for a moment, steeped in the memory of a girl with a whole world of possibility ahead of her, adjusting her ponytail and trying to clean black polish off the hems of her white pants.

The End of the World Came Every Day Then

Once in the movies, I moved seats, angry, sensing the rising of the storm, the end of all good things. How I wept back then. Clutching my chest as if it had broken open. The end of the world came every day then, the start of a new one too, but I was young then, too young to know better. And too soft to learn the hardness required.

A Moment (from the backdoor)

Sometimes in the right water, just when immersing myself I recall the moment at the backdoor. The stars, the pool of yellow light from the bulb above the door. An embrace so warm I am forever lost in its folds, even now underwater, many years on.

What I Learnt From My Missing Earring (a quick story)

This morning I thought I lost yet another favourite earring. My Kashmiri tiger eyes from Dal lake in Srinagar. I spent the morning searching for it and complaining and generally being upset, wondering how I always lose one of my favourite earrings.

Eventually I gave up and put the lone earring back into its container, only to find the other earring there. I picked it up quickly and looked at it in wonder, I had been picturing it for so long that morning - laying on a carpet, or outside in the driveway or in my yoga mat (retracing my day's events) and there it was as I imagined, but in its place in my cupboard. And then I started to laugh as it hit me - I hadn't even put it on - I had only put on one earring in the morning and I forgot about the other one.

So essentially I was searching for something that I already had.

It was only when I gave up, gave in, that I realised what I had been searching for was already there. I was so caught up in the search I didn't even think about whether I had the earring in the first place. My focus was only that I had to find what I had lost. That what belonged to me was mine and I wouldn't give it up.

Also, I think in some strange way I was determined to be disappointed - I had lost so many of my favourite earrings before - I just immediately believed this was the case too.

It made me pause and think for a moment. How caught up we get in old ways, our assumptions and the way we stop thinking and go blindly after something. A lot of the time the chase is futile. A lot of the time, the loss of something is just a lesson in letting go (because life is all about letting go).

If we took a moment to stop, we would realise we already have what we're searching for.

God constantly tells us to always look for His signs. These signs that tell us about life. I think they're in everything. Even in little things like searching for your earrings.

Once

Once, I was a real person.
Real hands and nose,
real memories,
not shards,
not pieces,
not bits,

and a heart as full
as the moon
tonight

The Good Things (A Moment)

It's a summer night in Durban and abba is teaching mamma how to swim and my feet is in the water and I am telling mamma, 'Kick harder, kick harder,' and mamma is trying to kick and the water is so blue I can see everything and the night is so dark outside and later we laugh about the crab we found in the pool after we left for holiday. Mamma didn't want to get in until we told her she was being a drama queen. Later we went out for supper, fish and I said a prayer of thanks for the good things.