Tag Archives: Aiden

“Thamel”

04 Wednesday Dec 2013

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She talks, and I listen. The pack of cigarettes half emptied, and a half filled glass in front of me. I think of the coat left behind, while tightening the thin sweater that I had remained my only option.

Our lives do not seem much different despite the years in difference, and my son being an element in my life. Her nostalgia, seemed similar in certain ways, the over-analysis of relationships, the stress, the frustrations, and in short, life that happened, that keeps happening, and will continue on its own!

The place brought back memories, some funny, some messed up, some just plain weird. A list of names in which his appears, among others. I think of the night in Thamel, while passing the familiar club, where he was piss drunk, and I was in my “red dress”.

“I miss you!” the text reads. I reach for the delete button, in silence.

She speaks…

Mornings

30 Saturday Nov 2013

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I watched seated in bed, Aiden walking around the room, getting ready for work. He had been tiptoeing around the room, but I was awake nevertheless. He notices me watching him, comes over to land a kiss on my forehead while continuing to gather his socks, shoes and what not.

I think of how our paths keep crossing, how we fight so much yet cannot be without each other, and how it feels good to be near him though I know the moment we part the name calling would start, and I would switch off.

I like him near me. I like nights which end in a tight hug, and without insomnia, and with mornings of complains on how loud my snoring be. I like the confused look  on his face when he catches me looking at him. I like the constant “what?” which breaks the silence I usually maintain.

But morning was mostly for silence, while I wait in his shirt for the sheer pleasure of it, while he runs late to catch his train. And I wait in bed, hugging my pillow till late or standing by the window watching waves crash on the shore…

Such is life, such is bliss, till I pack again to leave.

Slightly OCD and Living with Slobs?

18 Friday Oct 2013

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I have lived all my life with people who have not considered putting things around the house in order as one of their priorities. I have walked into finding piles of clothes on my studying table, things thrown around in the living room, all forms of equipment to be placed in the garage sale, placed in the middle of my house. I have parents who find any lame excuse to not tidy the place, keep the house filled with garbage which is 15 years old, and lived briefly with an x husband who would dumb chocolate wrapper, apple stems and what not that is not relevant right onto the floor.

So what’s my problem with all these?

Well I am OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) (a slight dose of it, which makes my blood boil every time I see a mess, and self-restraint needed not to strangle whoever responsible for it).

If you are OCD, then you would understand what I am talking of. I am not even sure whether in Sri Lanka people recognise what OCD is. Come to think of it,  one of my cousins has a very high dose of it, and people find it a little hilarious. And depressingly enough, no one seems to have realised that the guy goes bonkers when they mess his room, and not because he is a lunatic. Leave the man’s place be, and he would be a happy human being. But NO! They prefer to have some fun messing his little bottles and stuff, and then seeing him all pissed off about of it.

Today I watch Aiden dump his clothes around the room. I switch on my control mode so that I will not activate my OCD self, and endure in silence the mess that remains in front of my eyes. He seems oblivious to it, as I read my book in bed, and he rummages through the pile of clothes he has pulled out of the bag, and thrown on the floor in a mission to locate what he wants to wear on our date. I breath-in, and keep reading, while he goes around rummaging while humming.

People always wonder why growing up I always preferred to stay out of my house. Well now we know why. Simply because I chose to live with one moral when it came to my OCD provoking situations i.e  If you can’t clear up a mess, just keep away from it!

“A Perfect Weekend”

29 Sunday Sep 2013

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Recipe for a perfect weekend

-Aiden
-Two full days of no lap-top
-Two full days of limited internet
-No phone
-A lot of walking (and a lot of holding hands)
-Tolerating each other’s snoring
-Not fighting over bills or splitting bills
-A lot of sleep
-More sleep
-And more Aiden time

I have not written in a while. I think I have lost touch of it. Work and travel had kept me too busy to think of things I normally type.
Aiden had been kind enough to drop in when I had finally wrapped up my work. It was good to see him. Life felt normal with him around. Despite both of us complaining of each others’ snoring, I had finally got my 9 hour sleep, and I was thrilled over it. He seemed to be fascinated over the amount of hours I could sleep. I was grateful that he would put up with my sleep, snoring and every other fancy, being very accommodating and patient.
My life was tilting over that edge where one is not sure whether it is you who is crazy or the rest that is around you. The men I had dealt with last month had rendered me to boarder-line lunacy. Hugging Aiden brought that fuzzy feeling into my life, the feeling of being able to feel something, feel cared for and not groped or eye-raped. He gave me the feeling that I did not need an explanation for every action. It was definitely a good thing, correction, an awesome feeling.
Aiden speaks of things that people take in face value, without getting too philosophical over it. He laughs at me, and says I make up things. I have no idea what he means by it, but sometimes it is just good to see him laugh, and not complain about things. I had just switched off my brain from processing. It was Aiden’s task to process things, and I was just letting him be the “man”.
Life is simple if you take it to be. Aiden had decided to keep it such, and I was happy that I could switch off my brain after a week, and let him take the steering wheel. A feeling I already miss.

“Another Goodbye”

05 Friday Jul 2013

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Aiden left this morning.

I watched him pack all his clothes into the back pack, without uttering a word. I did not tell him that I would miss him. He already knew that. And I knew he would miss me more, in his new aboard in Milan while trying to connect words to finalise his thesis.

We walked to the station together, as usual, under the shade of the trees I had started to love, and the silence and the calm I appreciated. Life seemed to fall into place, and summer had finally settled in, and the sun was up after days, without any clouds or gloom.

He hugs me tight, and I rest my face against his nape. I was missing him already, though my mind was occupied with the work that would have to be finished in the next few hours. Our parting hugs are always long, like an effort to make sure we remember the warmth in case life gets tough on us, and doubts seep in with too much space and distance between us.

I watch him walk away, wishing he would turn back. He does not, and disappears into the dark of the subway tunnel.

Note : This one is for Erandi, who ensures I keep posting horrible writing which she would access during her boredom 🙂