I’ve had some pretty good adventures. I’ve made a few trips, walked more than few miles, and even pulled some good ol’ all-nighters.
And all along, one pair has been with me. One pair that’s seen all I’ve seen, and been everywhere I’ve been. My partners, my sole mates.
Today’s prompt was a little weird. Deprive, it said. And I at once thought of a stern mother depriving her child of ice cream. That was too obvious. So I thought of one other thing you should never deprive yourself of. I came up with a list.
Because, well, not sleeping for too long will kill you and no one wants that. Besides, what’s the worth of living if you don’t give yourself some time off?
I couldn’t help it. I have a troubled relationship with food. Sometimes, I binge, and sometimes I cringe at food. But even I can’t say no to some bread and shredded chicken.
People say it’s the most important thing for a human being. I’d agree, but only if it involves self-love. We live in a world that teaches young children to look in the mirror at hate what they see. And from what I know, a child who deprives self-love deprives life itself.
Everyone should be able to read. It’s not just a gateway to worlds as mysterious as Narnia, but a book is a treasure to cherish. Plus, you’d look cool quoting Aristotle during a fancy dinner.
To keep us going…
It’s not often that you see both tea and coffee in the same list, but I’m weird like that. I like my tea first thing in the morning. And I like it better when I make it myself. Because, sometimes, you just need tea.
Never deprive yourself the treat that is Shakespeare. From “Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds,” to “Thou art as fat as butter,” to “All that glitters is not gold,” the man is too precious to ignore.
I might have left out a few, but that’s my list. What’s on your never-deprive-yourself-of list?
I’m still hungover from my not-so-recent (anymore) trip to Sikkim. And it’s not so surprising that this week’s prompt reminded me the earthly curves I saw from above.
“Get a life!”
Got a dog.
“The thrill of the chase, the blood pumping through your veins…”
There’s thrill, sure. And blood pumping through my veins. But there’s no chase. At least not the kind Sherlock meant. I’m chasing time instead.
Let’s start over.
We’re planning a trip to one of my favourite parts of India: Kerala. And I can’t sleep thinking about what to do, what to eat, and how to make it more than just another holiday.
There’s so much joy and excitement in planning for a trip. I’ve never fancied myself as a person sticking to plans and schedules. I like to just go with the flow. But that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy making plans.
Every morning when I pick out the day’s clothes, my eyes land on that one pair of jeans, or that shirt that would be great to wear on the trip. Or when I’m munching on a new flavour of fries, I make a mental note to buy it for the ride. “Ma would enjoy it,” I’d tell myself. I browse through cakes online to get “an idea” of the kind of cake we should order.
I take a virtual tour of the route we would take, look for decent rest stops, snack shops, sweet stalls, and memento stores. I zoom in and “search nearby” on Google maps, looking for fancy restaurants and coffee shops.
I go on trip planning sites to read through reviews of speciality food, and I scroll through menus and imagine myself ordering steamed fish and savouring how well it goes with the fried rice.
And I plan my work around my trip. I’ve become extra productive this week, so I could be at peace when I leave. I beg my colleagues to finish tasks soon because I wouldn’t be at work to check them out next week. I’ll go around bragging to every tea lover that I’m off to holiday amidst tea estates.
And all the while, I pretend like I don’t even have a plan. But every night, as I twist and turn in bed, sleepless, I’m glad I’m a day closer to the trip.
The Chaos Within 