When we think about death, love and birth; how what was never here, appears and how what was once here, disappears.
My relationship with the street hawker explains it all.
The month of December 2019 was a great one.
From my balcony, I would look out for her and run downstairs to get hot steaming puff puff, buns, donuts, fish roll and egg roll.
They were so fresh that I didn’t mind waking up by 6am just to catch her pass before 7.
Fast forward to a month after, she no longer passed.
I got so frantic, that I would go downstairs so early in the morning to sit, so I could at least catch her.
I practiced this ritual for about two months and I finally gave up – more like finally dawned on me that that phase was gone.
Today, I sat at my balcony, thinking about the dead who were once friends. Family.
Thinking about lovers I thought I wouldn’t live without.
Friends that I dreamt the best about.
And life; new life. How a child crawls and slowly has faith to find strength in itself to walk. The power to finally form words and make sense.
The absolution of my thoughts – nothing is permanent.
Nothing truly is, because, there I was sitting, once upon a time with an attachment to a certain street hawker but here I am, months later, with her on my mind as just another passing thought.
Musing: it is ok to dream but wise to have light expectations. Our lives are like movies but we only have a say on our personal role/character.
Love and light.