Under the Weather

So I've been walking around thinking something is out of sync with me, emotions all over the place, energy scattered, and a general listlessness that makes it harder and harder to get out of bed. Or get into it when I'm supposed to.

The thing was, I had two interviews today. Not exactly back to back, there was time between the two. But halfway through my first interview my stomach lurched. It was one of those powerful cramping pains that made me want to get up and run to the nearest bathroom.

Instead, I continued asking questions until I couldn't think of anymore to ask, as the photographer clicked on, and then politely asked if my interviewee could point out the nearest bathroom. He did. Five minutes there was enough to let me know. Diarrhoea. Oh dear.

I paid for the parking, made my way back to the car and headed out of there. Home? Yes. But first I stopped at a pharmacy for some medication. You know the kind that is supposed to stop the diarrhoea? Well, what they don't tell you is, it doesn't work until all the badness is effectively out of your system.

So I go home and drink some water. That's all I can do. I cannot hold anything down. And I try to rest up for the next interview. Wondering if I should call the PR and cancel but having no energy to do anything but go through with it.

And then it's time to go and as soon as I park, I get a text to say the interview is actually taking place at an adjacent building. Great. All I need is more walking when I'm feeling about as weak as a dead leaf.

But surprisingly, that seems to be the only effect of this prolonged purging. A sense of weakness. I'm not in any pain and maybe there's a lot of bad stuff inside me that needs to be cleared out.

The interview, rather surprisingly for one so busy, goes about one and a half hours over the allotted time. She is one of those chatty ladies who likes to tell stories to illustrate a point. Very well.

I feel a few twinges during that time and the PRs are a little surprised when I finished not one but two glasses of water. (one of which was meant for one of them) But I'm feeling so thirsty. And dehydrated. And partway through my recorder indicates that it is out of memory space. No matter, she's actually given me the story I wanted already.

So it's a rush to the bathroom again for another clear out, and thankfully, the roads are not unduly jammed as I make my way home. To sleep. Perchance to dream.

I pat Arnold. I pat Maggot. I settle down in my bed. It rains. I curl up with a book I was reading. And I fall asleep. Wake up. Continue reading. Have some water. Have some tea. Sleep some more.

And when I have finished my book, I looked to see Arnold, which his head perched so cutely at the edge of his bed and I think, do you know how cute you are? Do you know how much I love you?

And I settle myself on the floor and stroke his head. He opens one lazy eye to look at me and then closes the both of them in bliss.

The rain continues to patter outside my window which indicates that it will be a cool night and I should not have trouble sleeping.

I haven't eaten anything today, but one day of fasting won't kill me.

I'll probably be better tomorrow.

And that's something to be grateful for, isn't it?

Sometimes Monkeys Live

I'm at the office now and wading through stuff. It's not exactly a slow day but I haven't psyched myself up enough to start transcribing and do all the things I am supposed to do. The office is bright with fluorescent lights and it looks dark and cloudy outside. I am wrapped up in my fleece and am warm and cosy (this outside frigidity notwithstanding).

I came in to breakfast with Raina...she bought me pancakes with honey and an orange juice (yum). We were supposed to talk about what would go into the next issue but we talked instead about beauty queens who were NMPs, climbing mountains (something she'll be doing for her 30th birthday, and something I swore off before my 21st), diabetics who go on rallies and other fun stuff.

But we're not too fussed as next month's edition is mostly done. Just a matter of writing out the stories, having them cleared, subbed and the pages laid out.

I guess that IS something to be happy about.

Also I'm seeing my good friend Adel this evening and she is going to tell me all about her muketi (OK, nose stud, I don't know how to spell it in Indian). She told me before, over a teh tarek, at a mamak stall and I want her to repeat it so I can share it with all of you.

I finished Double Comfort Safari Club last night (I wish, I wish, I wish I could find Tea Time for the Traditionally Built, but it is proving elusive, may have to order it online).

Hectic social schedule for the next few days. Which is funny because if you asked me, I would tell you that this is a fallow period and all I want to do is curl up on the sofa with my latest book, or movie, cuddling my dog and doing lots of nothing.

Sometimes monkeys live.

When Friends Text You

Hey, said Kenneth, remember your blog, it's almost midnight.

I read his message and thoughtfully put aside my book, The Double Comfort Safari Club. I had skipped Tea Time for the Traditionally Built, if only because I couldn't find it anywhere. But it was true, I had only looked for it in two places.

And I searched my mind for joyous happenings today. It is a little harder to do that when I'm low in energy. A series of sleepless nights, the heat, the mosquitoes, the waxing moon.

I came home and crashed effectively on the sofa only to be shaken awake by my father. My mother was on the phone.

After listening to me mumbling sleepily for a bit, she said good night and hung up.

And Arnold, who had been lying patiently close by watching me, pressed his cold cold nose on me.

Wakey! Wakey!

And again, I wondered, what joyous thing happened today?

Well Arnold, for starters. He seems to have recovered his appetite and is eating like a horse. His normal food for the day, his dog biscuits, his little treat that Mary bought for him. And then he tells me (in that special language of his) that he wants more.

So I give him summore biscuits.

And when I take him out for his walk, he cavorts like a puppy. It warms the cockles.

And then, I got two responses for a story I wrote which came out in this week's paper.

One was by a columnist who has now become a friend. And he said:

That was a powerful and moving interview. He bared his heart and you honored it with your writing - creative, empathetic, honest.

And another friend said the story had made her cry.

So two good things. Also I realise that Publika's char kueh teow (which I tried for the first time today) is one of my all-time favourites. Which means that Jacky and Simon will be dragged there when they come visit. (Good char kueh teow is always a cause for rejoicing).

And if I had to add another blessing it would be Kenneth's message to me that triggered this post.

It means that someone, a friend, is reading this blog.

Good night.

I'm Hiding, I'm Hiding

I have a late night shower which I should have taken earlier, except that I was watching the pilot episode of the No 1 Ladies' Detective Agency on Youtube. After watching it, I slide on down to where my little dog is resting in his bed, and I stroke him and croon over him and tell him I love him. Arnold closes his eyes and just enjoys the attention.

Then I go off for my shower.

When I return, I see him running into the room, taking his position on his bed and then closing his eyes. His body radiates peace, security and a deep content.

And suddenly I think of mothers everywhere and how miraculous it is, in this sad, sorry and frightening world, that they can convey that sense of security. Hearing them singing in the morning, disappearing into their voluminous hug that lasts forever, that tough, so tender.

I guess it's Mma Ramotswe who inspires such thoughts in me. In the book she is called "traditionally built". But I think of her more as comfortable-sized. A child, hugged or held by her would feel safe and loved.

And I wonder, how do we bring back that feeling, that carefree feeling, when you know that there is someone to catch you when you fall and no matter what happens, you know it's going to be OK.

I'm hiding, I'm hiding
And no one knows where;
For all they can see is my
Toes and my hair

And I just heard my father
Say to my mother -
"But, darling, he must be
Somewhere or other;

Have you looked in the inkwell?"
And Mother said, "Where?"
"In the INKWELL?" said Father. But
I was not there.

Then "Wait!" cried my mother —
"I think that I see
Him under the carpet." But
It was not me.

"Inside the mirror's
A pretty good place."
Said Father and looked, but saw
Only his face.

"We've hunted," sighed Mother,
"As hard as we could
And I am so afraid that we've
Lost him for good."

Then I laughed out aloud
And I wiggled my toes
And Father said —"Look, dear,
I wonder if those

Toes could be Benny's?
There are ten of them, see?"
And they WERE so surprised to find
Out it was me!

By Dorothy Keeley Aldis

Midnight in Paris

To fully appreciate Midnight in Paris it would help if you've read A Moveable Feast and The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas. Luckily, I read both. And I can't decide if London (Bloomsbury) or Paris in the 20s is more Golden Agey. Except that, nestled as it is between two wars and one Great Depression, I suppose it is not really that ideal.

Now I feel like re-reading Virginia Woolf's diary.

And Loki was so not cute here. Though Hemmingway and Fitzgerald were. And I'm sure that that's what Zelda really needed.

A valium.

Compassion

20 Wise Quotes From The Dalai Lama

1. Happiness is not something ready-made. It comes from your own actions.

2. If you can, help others; if you cannot do that, at least do not harm them.

3. If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.

4. My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.

5. Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.

6. The ultimate authority must always rest with the individual’s own reason and critical analysis.

7. We can live without religion and meditation, but we cannot survive without human affection.

8. We can never obtain peace in the outer world until we make peace with ourselves.

9. Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.

10. If you have fear of some pain or suffering, you should examine whether there is anything you can do about it. If you can, there is no need to worry about it; if you cannot do anything, then there is also no need to worry.

11. If you don’t love yourself, you cannot love others. You will not be able to love others. If you have no compassion for yourself then you are not able of developing compassion for others.

12. Human potential is the same for all. Your feeling, “I am of no value”, is wrong. Absolutely wrong. You are deceiving yourself. We all have the power of thought – so what are you lacking? If you have willpower, then you can change anything. It is usually said that you are your own master.

13. We must recognize that the suffering of one person or one nation is the suffering of humanity. That the happiness of one person or nation is the happiness of humanity.

14. Through violence, you may ‘solve’ one problem, but you sow the seeds for another.

15. As people alive today, we must consider future generations: a clean environment is a human right like any other. It is therefore part of our responsibility toward others to ensure that the world we pass on is as healthy, if not healthier, than we found it.

16. To conquer oneself is a greater victory than to conquer thousands in a battle.

17. There is a saying in Tibetan, “Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength.” No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful experience is, if we lose our hope, that’s our real disaster.

18. The creatures that inhabit this earth-be they human beings or animals-are here to contribute, each in its own particular way, to the beauty and prosperity of the world.

19. A spoon cannot taste of the food it carries. Likewise, a foolish man cannot understand the wise man´s wisdom even if he associates with a sage.

20. In our struggle for freedom, truth is the only weapon we possess.

A Sense of Community

I want to tell you why I love these books so much, it is the snippets in between the stories, the actual plot that rise up and touch me with their warmth. I was reading one such snippet, on my lunch break and thought I should share it with you:

The arrival of Mma Ramotswe and Mma Makutsi at Mokolodi Game Reserve would normally be an occasion for the barking of dogs and for laughter and the shaking of hands. Mma Ramotswe was known here - her father's brother, her senior uncle, was also the uncle (by a second marriage) to the workshop supervisor. And if that were not enough, Mr J.L.B. Matekoni's cousin's daughter worked in the kitchen at the restaurant. So it was in Botswana, almost everywhere; ties of kinship, no matter how attenuated by distance or time, linked one person to another, weaving across the country a human blanket of love and community. And in the fibres of that blanket there were thread of obligation that meant that one could not ignore the claims of others. Nobody should starve; nobody should feel that they were outsiders; nobody should be alone in their sadness.