The rain came.

The rain stopped, momentarily.

It was one hell of a rain, just now. And I got stuck at a cafe. I got stuck because it was raining so hard I didn’t want to dash even the less-than-four-minute route it would take to get from that spot to this one, where I am, thanks to the spell of a breeze and some sun.

Before the rain

Meantime, while waiting, I chatted someone up and it was incredibly dull. I mean, really dull. I should probably refrain from even saying that because, well, it’s dull and that’s that, right? But as much as I give out about being the way I am (occasional curmudgeon, fully admitted, and antisocial, etc), the truth is, when four plus days pass, having packed everyone off for their own adventures so as to FOCUS and WRITE SOMETHING, and I haven’t spoken to anyone in real life I get a little… wigged out.

Weird.

 

‘Occasional curmudgeon’ or socialite?

I am social.

Aren’t I?

I should ask KE. Who has known me longer than anyone, for a continuous stretch. Or RKP, whom I met the same exact summer. If, that is, if he still remembers me or keeps any of our giant volumes of exchanges of handwritten and colored pencil and crayon and other kinds of medium letters. These people influenced me deeply. They listened, they wrote. They shared.

I do like people.

Not to unpack them, by chatting them up and looking for things to get messy and debate-y with, no no, not unless, well, sometimes. But not often. Definitely not necessarily. (But to… you know… Socialize.)

There are the internet friends and the very far friends and the people I used to work with whom I’m deciding how to get in touch with right now on this weird time zone converter app I found.

Am also reviewing things.

Lots of them.

From the past archives, troves of digital ridiculousness, poorly written prose, dead lists of email newsletters no longer circulating (thank goodness for that) so as to focus, focus, focus on the things that are important.

A bit of time. A bit of space. This moment, this here, this now.

A big thank you to SJ.

I have been writing less and thinking in curious new dimensions… more different, I suppose you could say. Different think. A good thing.

 

Change is the only constant

My old thinking has been black and boring, and the writing has suffered, too.

But thanks to SJ, and our various segues into this dance, or that one, I’m learning. Learning to flex, to explore, to be open to the possibilities. I even showed my neighbors around, just now. I was like, ‘Wanna see where the market is?’ I usually avoid encounters of any variety with people who I have to make smalltalk with, but in this instance, I was glad to have a chance to diffuse the earlier dullness. The back-and-forth bore of the predictable, ‘What are you doing in Asia?’ blechity-blech that has become more the norm in these engagements with the ‘fellow foreigner’ than I have time and patience for.

Thankfully, the rain quickly subsided and I dashed out, bouncing and bounding from there to here, after the tour of the market, my favorite back-alley shortcuts, passing the lady who sold me leaves that I think are spinach and who gave me a very nice smile and the bread shop and the phở gà place and the other people who know me kind of because that is what happens when you move around and think about nothing but move round and see and feel and write what you know but not only what you know, more importantly, that which is unveiled to you when you finally stop getting in the way.

Very grateful.

More and even more <3

More when I have more.

Meantime, let me delete the slack.

The new and the curious meet in S P C. Experience it. ✨ Our S P C | Autumn 2019 series is called ‘Trust the Process’. For queries, DM @dipikakohli*

*Guess this means I have to find my password…

 

essays, lazy sunday longreads, vignettes

A sunny spell

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