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Vositha's Blog

~ a story of life, love and other things

Vositha's Blog

Tag Archives: random

When 24 Hours Run Out Too Fast

01 Saturday Feb 2020

Posted by vositha in Random Moments of Life

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Tags

happiness, life, mumlife, personal, random, travel, work, worklife

I am going to type this post on my phone, too lazy to open my laptop over a black coffee, and the sound of a man chuckling, potentially suffocating on the same chuckles a bit later

At least that is what I think I hear. My mind remains in its darker corners, after dealing with an immigration officer who kept scratching my visa for a good 10 minutes in an effort (I believe in his mind) to prove its authenticity (or not) till I interrupted him  by asking whay was wrong with it.

Loud people do not add to improving my mood, especially not at 1.41am. (I like silence, at most times.)

Brain keeps shifting on changing time zones. The last 2 weeks been quite crazy with 2 travels back to back, and 2 workshops during the days I was at home. The 10 days covered 3 national workshops in Africa, and 2 in Sri Lanka. And end of it, I stand/sit a very exhausted human.

And now I sit exhausted and sleep deprived heading out for then 2 more weeks, which will hopefully be followed by no travels for a while.

I like my home, my bed, my time with the kid. And nothing more comforting in life than the comfort of one’s “home,” where ever it may be. Especially for tired souls who have over-run their quota of travel.

Note: Downside of posting using my phone is that I am bad at adding a suitable photo for this. Maybe in a few hours…

 

 

 

“Red”

06 Sunday Mar 2011

Posted by vositha in Random Moments of Life

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

booze, exotic dancers, intoxication, random, rape, red, remember

Adi and I spoke after a very long time. He was back at the place where we first met and I felt alone, for some reason. The night two years ago gushed with memories too fresh to push back, and the moments of bonding and disasters in the making ever too familiar. Faces of familiarity among faces of strangeness, Irish girl who liked Adi, and my red coloured dress he remembers vividly. I remember his turban, and the long walk at 3 am when everyone else was asleep. The dogs on the street straying on their own, and the dogs who decided to crowd upon us, and check who were the cowards, us or them. I remember too well, in too much detail.

Deserted streets of exotic dancers returning home after their duties performed, the random men offering their goods for sale, the goods Adi had purchased without my knowledge, which he did not heat up well, failing to perform their expected ecstasy.

The land miles away, the friendship made that remain across borders, religions and ethnicity. I tell Abhi with whom I randomly struck a conversation after weeks, that Adi is online, and that we are talking of our night out, the club, the vomiting, the booze, and the insanity of voluntary intoxication. He laughs, “I remember your red dress!” he adds, I laugh too. I realise that everyone remembers red. Red was the dress, red was his t shirt, red was the sign I failed to see, when I should have, and when I embarked on a journey destined for destruction, red was rape , red were those eyes, filled with lust and drunkenness. Red was what was around, is around and continues to be around.

Yes, it was a night to remember. A road to remember, some dogs to remember, and some people to be forgotten.

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