I want to get up and leave with you. Get to know you better. Talk to you. Stay quiet with you. Stare at your face and memorise you. Not worry about the end. Not care about the present. The feeling that we can be together forever is as strong as the feeling that this may just be a fleeting moment.
“This is a simple story… but not an easy one to tell.” The use of the word, “swoon.” Often hoping and praying and wishing and saying, “there is no God, but I hope someone watches over you.” Self-confessing to “telling secrets to the one guy you don’t tell secrets to.” Living by that amazing feeling of knowing absolutely well in my heart that “the truth just sounds different.”
Memorable quotes from: Life Is Beautiful (1997); The English Patient (1996); Almost Famous (2000).
And my favorite Oscar moment that’s incredibly moving, just as much as the movie itself.
October 2010. Not so impossible to believe but I have managed to not blog for exactly a year. This time last year I was buzzing- with excitement of traveling to Cambodia in November, soon after coming back from another trip in June to Turkey. Of having met hundreds of amazing people – some of whom are now some of my close friends, and others closer.
That having traveled alone without a ‘guardian’ for the first time as well as the second time in 2010 – from living in a houseful of people I was suddenly in bars full of people. From being used to screening calls ‘locally’ from parents starting as early as 9pm to being ‘internationally’ free to stay out, go out and do just about anything and everything. ‘Alice in the wanderland’ – much!
To coming back… from both my trips to the ‘usual’. Of making plans that were so much harder to execute- of car issues- of being a girl- of being in Pakistan- of curfews- of fighting on a daily basis with thoughts and feelings inside- and more than trying to keep anyone else happy but instead, of always making an effort to keep the self, sane – and in the process, everyone else that surrounded me. Of keeping a balance and maintaining an eat-pray-love-hate relationship with my country- a country who- despite everything old and new- makes us who we are.
May-2011. Of still managing a friend-trip with a guy/photographer/foodie that I met in Istanbul – to the valleys of Kalaash for a week, where we would have no internet, no phones, no tv, no hot baths, no… electricity! Of meeting new people and in the process, letting go of old in the very early hours of a very quiet morning in the valley of Bamburet… To keeping up with family- friends- and a 9 to 5 that I had chosen to quit before the Angkor workshop. That life was basically becoming a bit too new and unpredictable for even… myself! Of zero-regrets.
July-2011. Of moving. Of leaving the family-home for the first time in just about 27 years for an unknown time period and shifting to another city. Of being so excited that I could bet if calculated it was the same amount of adrenaline rush as a bungee jump! The hours before the flight- of the last few emails to the most important few people of my life- the first day- my temporary ‘home’ and 2 days of ‘settling’ before starting work- of that one week becoming a moment when it hit me that I am absolutely blessed with a bunch of ‘meray loag’- of keeping in touch with those that mattered becoming the key source of all things possible and impossible. Of skype calls with the relevant; of gchats with S & A; of finding a family away from family in a new city. Of making the cab-guy take the longer-Faisal-Mosque route every morning when it rained (and it rained almost every morning!) because I just can’t get over how gorgeous that visual is to living the life of a gypsy with M and our erratic plans between G6 and F11 and the Hill Road. Of living a very un-Pakistani life within Pakistan. Of Isloo being SO different from Khi and being only 15-minutes long!
October 2011. Of taking the flight back in September with my seriously-best friend A, our first flight together- of being back to the basics- of being back in Karachi, my city- of trying to get back to who I was in someways and letting go of who I am not in others. Of knowing absolutely well that there’s no way to respect-love-appreciate the old if there ain’t no new. So here’s to the new job – new people- new spaces- new ideas- but more than anything else, here’s to the new me to make me understand the old me better.
For her – everything’s gotta be done, and everything’s gotta be done – quick and ideally NOW (in caplocks!)! I am random compared to her super organized self. She’d scream and say “but I’m not!” and that’s when you gotta smile and nod and agree for the sake of. Rule No. 1: you don’t mess with her.
It’s hard to keep up with her. It’s been the same since the early days of May 2010 when we first emailed each other. I kept thinking… dude, damn too fast. She’s the person who is forever on time at every meeting. She’s the one who will judge you for turning up late. The one who won’t have chai during the meeting but her adrenaline will win against your caffeine. (I’d put all my money on the table! Oh yea.)
“She knows her shit!” – I was told by the only common friend, at the time. That changed. We’re now down to a 100+ mutual friends! ;)
She’s the girl I wouldn’t meet till a month after getting introduced – not in her country, not mine – but on another continent, well partially speaking. She’s the girl who carried a crateful of Amar Chitra Katha comics for my friend’s birthday because I asked her ‘once’! Only to realize on her way back from the bookstore that this is the stuff extra baggage is made of! Ha! But she doesn’t care. She figures out stuff. She is a DOer.
If gchat had a tag-cloud – ours would highlight: ‘Milo’; the ‘aunty-ism’; travel travel travel and travel some more; iThis iThat; 28mm; Delhi-Khi-iStanbul; insomniac-ism amongst other unmentionable stuff.
She’s not your average last minute girl – she’s… spur of the moment. She’s curious. An explorer. She’s about meeting new people – of trying out stuff she’s done before only in a far more challenging manner – of making sure that every single day of her life and the life of those she’s surround by is different from the day before. Her energy is contagious making each new experience memorable and unforgettable.
She’s an Indian. She lives and loves in Delhi. Her name is Mansi Midha (and not Manasvini!). And I’m glad I bumped into her!