I should have kept on writing.
I took up a pen and found an old notebook, it had my husband’s scribbling
on it. I think he abandoned it unknowingly. You know, like so many things in
life we pick up, thinking we need them, but just, very simply end up abandoning
them without too much thought, as a matter of fact not even realizing that,
that something has been left astray somewhere. See now, I am really writing, I am
philosophizing over a notebook which my husband bought and left after filling
in a few pages. .
We live on
the 16th floor of a new building. It further down a major arterial
road and is frontal to a very busy, very tiny road. The building is so badly planned
acoustically, that you can actually hear every single vehicle that passes by. Sometimes
fights break out in the nearby slum when inebriated men lash out at one
another, possibly hurling abuses at one another they actually want to hurl at
themselves. I also hear dogs barking in the night, howling. Why do they bark so
fiercely in the night and lay relatively calm during the day? Do they miss out
on all the noise?
The height
is good, I am sitting here in the balcony and I can see the rooftops of almost
all the buildings in the vicinity. The breeze is an advantage, only that it
sometimes too windy for my potted plants’ comfort sometimes, but hey that’ll
only make them stronger, no?
I cannot
wait for the rains, the air will be moist but cleaner, I cannot wait for the
dust to settle.
I shouldn't go too ahead of me, I have the summer ahead of me
to sit out before that happens.
