My days continue to run into one another, each hardly different from the one before and so little to look forward to.
My weekends are spent lolling away in a hammock in spite of all my good intentions to either get on with waxing my floors, sandpaper the bathtub or finish drawing up a company profile I agreed to prepare for a friend's new business venture
Take this Saturday for instance... I had a friend staying over, who was to leave that evening, returning to the city in time to spend the New Year with his parents. We had retired for an afternoon snooze, him to a bed and me to the varandha and Capt. Sunils' wonderful hammock. I awaken a few hours later, to find R all ready to go, which he does as I wave him a languid adios from the depths of my cradle, asking that he call me on making it safe home. Two hours later the phone rings and me, I am yet to even consider the possibility of stirring from my spot!
Surrounded by at least a couple of books, a pillow, my camera, a beer or two and Kermi to keep me company, my needs are catered to. The flow of life around me draws me up frequently from the depths of what I'm reading. The troop of monkeys as they come to forage, a pigeon bent upon stripping a branch of its twigs, a pregnant monitor lizard making its way across the yard, a flight of bats taking aloft with the setting sun; none of these an intrusion, rather part of what this is. There is a calmness around me, the ripple of water, the sound of the wind in the trees, a dogs bark in the distance, the shrill cry of a Brahmin kite as it skirts the lagoon edge. Bliss.
This is a place of dreams. It is a place to rest, to contemplate life. The pace of is slower, the wind and the waves are gentle, the only intrusion the sound of a bus belching its way along the road.
Retuning to the city always a chore, always undertaken reluctantly so.
I hope that with time will come some direction to my life. I know what I want... will I get it is what I don't know, what remains to be seen...