My love for all things French

Years ago, I knew (deep down in your guts, take on the world kind of knowledge) that I was destined to learn French. I was in love with the language.The food, over the top mannerisms and the Gallic exclamations - I was enchanted by all of it.

I took the next logical course of applying for a language course. National level entrance exams made the entry tough - or so they said. But you know the naivety and certainty of youth, right? No, no this bit has a happy ending. I did get admission, started the course, was getting A levels; enjoying every minute of it all.

So of course, I had to screw it up. Pretty much like a lot of things that I've managed to, in life. An abusive relationship, lost friends, and more. I couldn't handle it anymore and ran away. I didn't lose weight, but I did continue running for a very long time. I didn't really find myself, neither did I know what I was looking for. Some years back though, some of it changed.
I have found my soul mate, but I still don't know what I'm looking for within myself. The search continues.

Hopefully, searching in French, which I hope to, by the end of this year, will help matters.

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Almost a year

There is this strong independent woman inside me, who sometimes feels it to be unreal. I have a full life, contributing to the society, doing my own bit. Can drive, cook, do basic first aid, can manage finances (reasonably well)...how is it that with all these positives, the only thought that is always always overriding all this is how much I miss the man. The other half, the one with whom my thoughts and sentences were complete. Who made me laugh, who understood and noticed small details that would fool everyone else. The man did love the winter light Jotting down a list of things (in no particular order), that I miss about him - His hands - the man had the most beautiful hands that I have seen till date. Long artistic fingers that bore truth to his love for working with them - be it the sourdoughs that he learnt via YouTube or his leather work or the ferments or the photography or the hand-crafted diaries or his cooking or his ferments - That broken to...

If the grief won't get to you, the paperwork will

Days pass by and it seems like yesterday, but also aeons since I lost my partner. My best friend. How do you explain this grief that refuses to go away? Grief that seems to have made a home in a tiny space in your heart? Grief that 'allows' you to laugh, but also makes you feel strange about that laughter. Just when you think you are figuring things out, taking one tiny step forward, and feeling like you are moving ahead...wham! The paperwork starts... Sending his death certificate - over and over again - looking at his age stated on the certificate - 53 years 10 months 6 days, and having it committed to your memory. Letting people know that yes, you are the only surviving member who is still alive... And then doing it all over again. And again. And once more. Days when the pain in your leg is outweighed by the pain in your heart. Pain that doesn't allow sleep to help your body run away from that pain, even for a moment. Days when you would like to join your yoga class...

At least its a start!

I took a pen and a piece of paper Wanting to just jot down my thoughts…Or so I thought… My mind went blank…and my ‘creative juices’ dried up! What was I supposed to do??? Heart rending decisions I do have to take Some gut wrenching realities I do have to face But I am just not ready for them now Life as I term it has more in store for me now…. There are fresh beginnings that I have made There are things to do… And checklists to make… Checklists that cover Oh so many things Sadness, Pity, Sorrows These are things that I would like to leave behind Euphoria, Joy, Happiness These are the things to look out for… Life! As they term it… Here I come… With joys, ecstasies Unknown but plentiful all around!

Loose Change

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