A Blurry Couple Of Months.

Picture: At the lobby of the Conrad Hotel, Indianapolis.

The last two months have passed by in a flash – I remember a blur of never-ending plane-rides, rather bad jetlag, and faces – so many faces. I remember airports, malls, bowls and bowls of steaming hot chili, and the silence of lonely hotel rooms. Two trips in two months – one to the US (for an International Visitors’ Leadership Programme) and another to Delhi (for the Youth  Advisory Council meeting) – but both so fruitful, so interesting, and so much fun!

The US experience was, to use a tired cliche, wonderful. I met some amazing people, some organisations that are doing really great work in the field of gender issues, and of course – the scenery was gorgeous! (Got to see snow for the very first time.) Absolutely breathtaking. It was a hectic month abroad, but so enriching, both personally and professionally. (Separate post to be written for the America experience.)

Delhi was a great trip too, short but sweet – got to spend some time with family, and most importantly – my super-cute niece who seems to be growing faster by the day! The last time I saw Meera, just at the beginning of the year, she seemed so much smaller – and now, it makes me think how fast times flies and how quickly people can change. Time waits for no one, indeed. Ma brought back some frocks for Meera from her trip to Dubai, and after seeing her gurgling away blissfully on Skype, we’re both doubtful that any of them will fit. Meera seems to be growing faster than any of us realised was possible, in no time at all I shall be able to buy my little niece Enid Blyton books and take her out for icecream – something I’m super-excited about.

In the meantime, life carries on as usual. Being away for extended periods through January and February means there is an avalanche of work and academic reading to get through – but then there always is. Sometimes these are the only things that keep me sane, keep my mind off things, but then again – I know I’m doing much better than I was. The other day I was thinking about Skittles (an ash-grey tom-cat I had when I was very young) who accidentally bit me once. The scar is still there on my hand – a small little mark that is a constant reminder of Skittles’ existence. It got me thinking that even though the scar is still there, it has faded over time, almost to the point of nothingness – but it’s there, nonetheless. It’s a reminder of that wound, of the pain of the injections (and the blackouts), but it’s also a lesson – that one should never try to surprise a cat in the darkness. Perhaps all wounds, physical and otherwise, have their own lessons to be learnt.