Last Night

I dreamt there was a train I needed to catch. I was meeting Georgia on it, like when I travelled from Agra to Delhi, but this time, it was my Dad warning me how imperative it was I catch it; it was the last train of the night.



I left the platform to get chips, from a neon lit multiplex takeaway that seemed to be in a Northern English city, although it was the main shopping road in Bangalore. I used my card to pay but took it out of the machine too soon in my rush, and so fiddled with cash. The woman behind the till was kindly, fat and slow, with bleach blonde scraggly hair and a cratered moon face.

When I returned to the station, the train was there. Most of thee carriages were full, and there were big crowds coming off - so I waited. They dispersed and I shuffled around trying to identify my carriage from the outside. Then the porters were shouting and the train started to move but as I willed my legs to obey their call of "All aboard" they were glued to the floor. It accelerated and I removed my white trainers which are a bit too small and started to run. I thought I'd make it to a door but I couldn't keep up.

I met my Dad and Grandad later; they'd been watching from the waiting room unbeknownst to me. They said I'd missed it on purpose, that they'd seen me check my wristwatch as the train left, and were angry at my nonchalance.



(A tribute to Shaun Love, who always writes up his dreams)

This is reality, Greg (Bristol)

Having been home for a week and a day, I feel in a position to assess reality.
These days have mostly been spent in bed, where thinking is best done.
On the few occasions when I have stumbled blinking outside - or into other darkened artificial spaces, my path has crossed with that of former friends and acquaintances. I say former, not to suggest they are no longer but that I was doubtful of what we would have in common anymore, I don't know if they are of a former life, or real life...
Certainly other 'travellers' give me a dazed slightly mournful smile that I'm sure is mirrored on my face, implying some mutual understanding. Not just that we had a lovely holiday but now we are poor and we have to get jobs before we whisk our relenting selves to uni.. It's that we saw something. More than 'suffering is terrible and universal' or that 'we have it so lucky'.. You can see that on TV if you want to. Its hard to make this sound normal, but its that the places that we can see in pictures are real and you can walk there and eat that food and talk to those people. Because you can know the topography of Iraq from the maps of offensives, and how the famine in Eithopia was precipitaated by climate, or how Muslim women are treated in Saudi Arabia but how much are these just facts to you without ever being within those places.
Now before I come off all pretentious (oh, too late), that wasn't really what I was thinking about under the covers. It mostly cycled around; how am I going to get enough money to afford a laptop so I can play on the internet from bed, are there anymore crisps I can eat, why do I feel unhappy when this is home, why am I signing contracts for a year in university that I don't want to pursue further.
I got out of bed for 24 hours and in that time, got a trial shift in a french restaurant on Glos. Rd. (tonight - wish me luck)and went to our old Wednesday night hangout. I kneww this was a bad idea, guaranteed to compound my depression about all things souless and local. It's always been full of underagewannabeindie's but that didn't use to matter because that was me and everyone I knew. They're very sweet and charming, and I'm not entirely happy that age's over - I found a wrinkle under my eye before we went.
I wish I could say what's different now.. are we more discerning and less awkward or just pretending to be?



(Dedicated to Neni & Bacsi, inc)

Hottie (Agra & Delhi)

Back in the land of chai and thalis:

Two little girls arrived in Delhi around midnight to heat and fights on the street.

One little girl has gone to Agra, to see certain popular mausoleum, and talked into buying rugs. Finally found disposable camera, and have gone crazy. Feel my heart has gone so fast and my eyes been so wide open! I'd forgotten that I can manage in a city on my own. With Sri Lanka's laidback spirit and D&Gs good ideas, I had pretty much floated along these past two weeks.

Speaking of floating - on Monday 11th August I reached an unspeakable age, and those two darling people gave me a beautiful day. They woke me up singing and led me to a bath filled with fresh tropical flowers, overlooking the rainforest. Red and orange and white and purple and luscious green and sky blue (haha). Then a breakfast of pineapple and banana with curd and treacle. Curd is my favourite thing in Sri Lanka, and if you saw my surfer, you would know that's saying a lot. Its creamy and a little bit savoury and smells like babies.. in a good way. Drank fresh coconut water from champagne glasses.

Then there was this bundle of rags, which looked a lot like the hippy clothes Geo had been buying downbythe beach. And I thought Aw, she's giving some to me. Confession - the thought was probably a bit less nice than that. But no... Inside was a shimmering creature, or maybe I was a shimmering creature when I wore her. I'd seen a black dress/coat (debatable) in one of the beach second hand shops. Totally out of place, ridiculous and fantastic. Covered in sequins.. Knee length with sleeves to the elbow. I didn't try it on but I had a feeling. Went back the next evening and it had gone. Georgia and I discussed what terrible tortures we'd inflict when we saw the batch what bought it on the beach.. But long story short, that minx had gone and bought it, and sworn the shop owner to secrecy. I love her.

So now I'll stop these reminisces and get on a train and she'll be sitting there waiting and then in two days we'll be home though I don't know if and why that's a good idea.

Music

I left my generic mp3 player behind, thinking I would be more able to appreciate eastern beats if I wasn't plugged into songs that remind me of home. So for two months, I haven't picked what music I listened to. Such a strange feeling!
However... One of my dear treehousemates lent me his yesterday morning, and I sat for hours playing things I knew and things I didn't. This is something that made me happy. I can't embed it, because I'm a fool.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MHNAFRg6jYA

Birthday cards to treehouse, jungle, sri lanka

If I havent written for a while.. it may be because I've turned into a lazy beach bum whose major exercise is walking around Galle Port shopping for vegetables in an old Dutch market.