So was speaking with The Short One (notice how I said talking with instead of me talking you listening…I listen!!!!)
So yeah okay fine for a minute got lost because I had an overwhelming rememberance of
I heard cars on the street, water from potholes going splish-splash and I remembered the house I lived in when I was twelve or thirteen. I remember the room so clearly, the bed which had a thin mattress and wooden planks, a throw-away from my dad’s ancestral home. I remember the rough feel of the bed side table made using scrap wood by carpenters who had finished work on my parents bedroom, painted a white by me under the watchful eye of my grandfather. I remember the ‘stick’em stones’ which had just come out, blurry colors seen through ‘weak’ eyes, trying to sleep.
I’m thirteen and I hear cars splashing through the water in October in
I hear the rather loud air conditioned in my parents room from when I was much younger and used to sleep in their room since we had a small house, the pug coming nonchalantly, heaving up on his back pawn to turn the vents down and plonking himself next to me, his wheezing. I heard my dad scrabbling for the stick, reaching out to turn the vents back up.
I go farther back. I’m in Jaipur, in cream colored shorts, waiting inside the gate at my grandparents home where I lived for two years, I hear the auto that used to take me to school, kids piled in the drivers voice bellowing ‘bhaiiya!’.
I hear the songs I heard when I was madly in love, when I was heartbroken and when I grit my teeth deciding that enough is enough. I hear songs that I listen to on rainy days, Miles Davis, Nerina Pallot, BJ Thomas, Bob Seger.
Live, A3, Fall Out Boy, Nickleback screaming in my ears and the only other sound I can hear in me catching my breath at the gym
I listen to the children in the playground later in the evening than warrants them being out there, smiling and remembering
I hear the TV in my room, some random person, another random opinion which dissolves into nothingness and silence as I fall back into my own head.
I turn out the lights and hear myself breathing, sometimes louder than it should be.
I hear the phone rind and an involuntary smile at the slightly grumpy, just-woken-up voice at the other end:
And I forgot all the other sounds in my memory and slip into something else altogether, something new and something yet unheard and unremembered.