I bid farewell to 2009 and welcomed 2010 at Robertsport. It was my first time at Robertsport and I was blown away the pristine white beach, the serenity of the ocean and not to mention the safari-style lodge. It was unreal - I could not believe that I was a mere 2 hours away from the shabby, noisy and congested delights of Monrovia.
I think I could really get into the beach culture.
[Pause]
Most people who know me would think I'm so hilariously (annoyingly, actually) inconsistent. The reason I say it is because I used to go around saying that desi's don't really do the beach. We are already tan. We run away from the sun. Blah blah.
My friends managed to get me into a swim suit and even tried to teach me how to float. And I also went in the sea at Robertsport. I guess I am really changing (and really enjoying it)! Why did the lady protest so much?
So yes, I could really get into the beach culture. Lounge around in a sarong, read books, sip amarula, doze off. Not bad at all.
There was a part of me which was delighted and thrilled to be there in the midst of such beauty with such wonderful friends. And then then there was also a separate torrent of grief and loss within me, missing Wesley, regretting he was not with me, bidding goodbye to a terrible year, in fact, glad to be over with the relentless nuclear-strength nastiness of 2009 that which obliterated almost all of my life and forced me to start a new one.
So there I was, welcoming in 2010 - a wild sea of emotions within me - against the backdrop of a seemingly serene sea and the most glorious of full moons that was aglow with magical moonshine. What a bewitching atmosphere it was. Nostalgic, melancholy, achingly beautiful, warm and promising. This is how my moments have become nowadays, they are multi -coloured, multi-faceted, and deliciously and painfully complex and intense! My God, the intensity!
Perhaps this is how life is - complex, dangerous, wonderful, unpredictable, merciless, shockingly kind and so on. And, one has to take it in one's strides as it moves you along.
The metaphor. A definition. A re-telling, re-description of something, an experience, a vision. I remember writing to myself once that all poetry is re-writing of definitions. All good poems have at least one crowning glory - one image, one concept, one thing that has been re-cast into something else. Poets transform our experiences and feelings into something else, hopefully more sublime or more terrifying. And most often, we seek nature to find our inspiration.
So if I speak of life and its complexity, what better inspiration that the ocean itself? The ocean which is vast and ever changing?
I am sure though that if I had spent the New Year's in the bush, I would be likening my experience to a tree!
I can often hear Wesley's words and voice in my head. A lot of which he had to say and share with me makes sense now. He had really thought about life, happiness, love and the bonds we share with our fellow human beings. I think he was acutely aware of how random, unfair and wonderful life was and, how people put more stock into the unseen than ourselves and our own human capacity. I think of the sweet love which we shared and how natural we were together. I used to think Wesley was different from me but I realise that he was just an older version of me. I think a lot too, am very introverted (although I am consciously trying to be less so), have a few hang ups, and am very suspicious of sacred cows. I wonder whether I shall ever find someone who can challenge me in so many ways again and is yet so easy to be with. I really wonder whether I will ever love someone so madly and deeply again. The only consolation is that when I finally die and if we exist after death, I will see him.
I openly and sincerely welcome whatever 2010 has in store for me. I do not feel alone and I am not scared of the future. I am excited about life and its wonderful and terrible mysteries.
So let us say welcome to 2010!
I think I could really get into the beach culture.
[Pause]
Most people who know me would think I'm so hilariously (annoyingly, actually) inconsistent. The reason I say it is because I used to go around saying that desi's don't really do the beach. We are already tan. We run away from the sun. Blah blah.
My friends managed to get me into a swim suit and even tried to teach me how to float. And I also went in the sea at Robertsport. I guess I am really changing (and really enjoying it)! Why did the lady protest so much?
So yes, I could really get into the beach culture. Lounge around in a sarong, read books, sip amarula, doze off. Not bad at all.
There was a part of me which was delighted and thrilled to be there in the midst of such beauty with such wonderful friends. And then then there was also a separate torrent of grief and loss within me, missing Wesley, regretting he was not with me, bidding goodbye to a terrible year, in fact, glad to be over with the relentless nuclear-strength nastiness of 2009 that which obliterated almost all of my life and forced me to start a new one.
So there I was, welcoming in 2010 - a wild sea of emotions within me - against the backdrop of a seemingly serene sea and the most glorious of full moons that was aglow with magical moonshine. What a bewitching atmosphere it was. Nostalgic, melancholy, achingly beautiful, warm and promising. This is how my moments have become nowadays, they are multi -coloured, multi-faceted, and deliciously and painfully complex and intense! My God, the intensity!
Perhaps this is how life is - complex, dangerous, wonderful, unpredictable, merciless, shockingly kind and so on. And, one has to take it in one's strides as it moves you along.
The metaphor. A definition. A re-telling, re-description of something, an experience, a vision. I remember writing to myself once that all poetry is re-writing of definitions. All good poems have at least one crowning glory - one image, one concept, one thing that has been re-cast into something else. Poets transform our experiences and feelings into something else, hopefully more sublime or more terrifying. And most often, we seek nature to find our inspiration.
So if I speak of life and its complexity, what better inspiration that the ocean itself? The ocean which is vast and ever changing?
I am sure though that if I had spent the New Year's in the bush, I would be likening my experience to a tree!
I can often hear Wesley's words and voice in my head. A lot of which he had to say and share with me makes sense now. He had really thought about life, happiness, love and the bonds we share with our fellow human beings. I think he was acutely aware of how random, unfair and wonderful life was and, how people put more stock into the unseen than ourselves and our own human capacity. I think of the sweet love which we shared and how natural we were together. I used to think Wesley was different from me but I realise that he was just an older version of me. I think a lot too, am very introverted (although I am consciously trying to be less so), have a few hang ups, and am very suspicious of sacred cows. I wonder whether I shall ever find someone who can challenge me in so many ways again and is yet so easy to be with. I really wonder whether I will ever love someone so madly and deeply again. The only consolation is that when I finally die and if we exist after death, I will see him.
I openly and sincerely welcome whatever 2010 has in store for me. I do not feel alone and I am not scared of the future. I am excited about life and its wonderful and terrible mysteries.
So let us say welcome to 2010!
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