Julie and Marion / Michelle et Moi

"...do you think you could like me?"

p

p

P.S. Motley crew spotted at Thomson Plaza's NTUC on a monday afternoon. Alas they were more lovably eccentric in real life.

ode to padma

dear padma,

my father said this looks fun.
p

you mad chihuahua

intoxicated with air-con avec silly pierre

hiding from the rain in panjim

making friends on the bus (not sure why you showed her the postcard with the seas of naked holy men)

I know you really got a kick out of this one...

and if you do expire at 55 i will visit you with lilies

in autumn

thanks for the ride (and all the wonderful meals we shared)

goodnight.


Ginger and Lemongrass, Bindi


(O the things you make me do)

a friend

As Lucy said so too, coming back to your room from somewhere else after a long time is like meeting an old friend anew. (Firstly, we have the luxury of having a 'My Room' and a world of our own.) You open the door, take a deep breath of the musty air, a flitting glance around at all the things that were too familiar before you left, that are now magic little new-old parts of the world, the bits of you that you left behind when you went to see other places and people, your lungs send a signal to your brain, I'm here now....

"Hello."

And it seems, or maybe just in that moment alone, like all that travelling, somehow, was to get back here, as if you'd never left, to dream of the next time you'd travel again.

thar

What I imagine about their lives: moustache oil, camel rearing tricks, rupees, dhal, chapatis, old mattresses, wives, sun, sand, shrub, dunes, folk songs, village friends, tobacco

And now, strangely or not, their photos are on the internet, a medium they may not have seen or understand.

p

Umed always said 'Velcome, Velcome' in a singsong way after we said thank yous for the meals they made from scratch. And Babu would say in jest, in response to thank you, 'Yes, thank you sir, thank you madam, thank you, thank you.' I tried watching them cook but they seemed to want to be alone, speaking in their dialect. Maybe they were catching up with one another; we were the first customers of the season. And we slept by ourselves on one part of the sand dunes while they slept somewhere near; we spoke about country-boys/city-boys and heard them talk very late into the night. I wonder what they were talking about for hours. And we were all under a big salty blanket of stars. They were 27 and 29 but looked 40, with weathered dark faces, deep rugged lines (the kind that run in some of the older men on my paternal side. it is most enchanting, like rough leather), old twinkling eyes, flower earrings, curly moustaches.

p

So happy and sorrowful.

our burnt loyal medals

notes:
-the toering that desiree took about 5 cities to find
-her drapey latticed anklet from an aggressive gypsy
-the henna we got on our feet for the wedding
-indian summer sandals from lucy, that survived after cobbling

a-cha!

We had a kettle
we let it leak
Our not repairing
made it worse
We haven't had
any tea in a week
The bottom is out
of the Universe

-Rudyard Kipling