16 May 2013.
In the midst of furious scribbling, the gust of wind from the open window blows the pages of the notebook resting on my lap. A list of accounts, maintained religiously (till the last pence!) catches me off-guard. A closer look reveals a weekly log; I would make a good chartered account, I can’t help thinking to myself. Intrigued, I find myself flipping the pages…
Backwards, until I reach page one.
And from there on, begins a journey. Which graduates with each page that gets turned.
The book is dog-eared; limp in my hand because of the number of English rains it has faced. A complimentary notebook gifted by the University upon our arrival here, 8 months ago. Awkward notes reveal the confusion of setting up a whole new life. The tiniest of tasks listed, the most random of addresses squeezed in between shopping lists. The horror of pound-to-rupee conversion is evident, as each purchase is made so carefully. There are notes of introductory seminars attended; evidence of a life once so brand-new.
As the world straightened itself and life settled into a typical groove, the notebook was used lesser. The dated entries support this fact. And yet, all ‘extra curricular’ events attended find base in the very same notebook. From learning how to ‘Getting Connected to the Wi-Fi’ uptil neatly made notes about ‘Getting an Academic Job’; it’s all in there….a journey of progress, page by page.
The shaky scribblings to confident shorthand notes, the handwriting changes to reveal the changes occurring within me. The smile that dawns on my face upon reading addresses of places that are familiar names to me now, drives home the fact that England is no longer a foreign land. It is ‘home’, a temporary home though that may be.
The writing stops.
But I am still flipping pages…
Lost in thought of what writing these blank pages would hold; what possibilities they would bring; what maturity they would preserve! 🙂