I have never been a list writer. Not a bucket list, not even new year resolution. I mean, I can’t really make a specific list of anything. It feels as if making a list will make me confined to it, and what if I change my mind later. And that, I do quite often. The things I love or I don’t quite enjoy will get restricted by making a list.
Although I did once try to make a grocery list for a month. But then the whole grocery shopping lost its charm. It turned into a chore, a boring drab errand. Going to the store, taking the list out of pocket and starting to load the cart – where’s the fun in that ! I would rather browse through the racks, read every offer, every label, wonder how better they could have colour coordinated all the items in each rack, and so on. Only then I will start looking at each
product and contemplate whether we have run out of that at home, or if we need it really. It takes a little longer though, yes, and sometimes I end up getting late for dinner, but then well, it’s once a month favorite pass time of mine. What’s the rush !
Anyway, enough diggression. Let me tell you then why I have brought this topic in the first place of How and why of my list making. It’s the second day task of writing 101 challenge that I’m taking, and I really want to do it thorough. For I figured that writing down a list is not something I want to put in my list of things I’ll never do. Bungee jumping I won’t, ever, but that’s different. So here I’m with some lists of mine…hope you will enjoy 🙂
My last year in Doha was tougher than I thought it would be. Yet, I enjoyed some part of it. Here are some random Things that I liked in Doha:Continue reading “On Making a List and Looking Back at Doha – 1”→
I write because…well, well, now do I really ! When was the last time I wrote ! Ages it seems now.
I thought I had nothing left in me to say. I felt as if all the words have drained out of me, and that I will never write again.
But this room ! This writing desk next to this huge window! It seemed this house was meant for me. So when Areej wanted to take the other house on rent, the one closer to City Center, I insisted on this one. This house is a little away, somewhere right in the middle of Manchester Airport and Piccadilly, if you would. The place is so calm and quiet. The window from my room overlooks this serene backyard with six giant trees – two maple, one that I presume to be fig, and rest I don’t know; and lots and lots of bushes.
When I first came here three months back, the place was all green. So much green, like I had never seen before. And the sky, oh the Sky ! Stark blue. We don’t get such clear sky in India. Not so much green either. Although it should have been, in Bengal at least. But now everything is so grey, so dusty back there.
I had seen leafy trees and leafless trees, but had never seen trees shading their leaves. Like a nostalgic gradual process, the passing of time becomes so palpable, you can feel it. Behind the trees there are the radiant English cottages standing in perfect harmony, at ease. Mine is an apartment, but of that same romantic terracotta red colour, with chimney and fire places and…you know. What else could I have done, sitting here, all alone, but write.
Yet, it didn’t come easy. Words were with me when I had no one, nothing. In that solitary studio in Qatar, confined, I had turned to them. I made Sandcastle my best friend. Came good times, and how conveniently I had forgotten all about it. Continue reading “The Fall”→