'This the closest I'll ever be to home'
Reading corner
Postcard from Kashmir by Agha Shahid Ali
Kashmir shrinks into my mailbox,
my home a neat four by six inches.
I always loved neatness. Now I hold
the half-inch Himalayas in my hand.
This is home. And this the closest
I'll ever be to home. When I return,
the colors won't be so brilliant,
the Jhelum's waters so clean,
so ultramarine. My love
so overexposed.
And my memory will be a little
out of focus, in it
a giant negative, black
and white, still undeveloped.
Healing notes
It feels right to use a picture of the sky from my stay in Breswana, Jammu and Kashmir three years ago and a poem from the amazing Agha Shahid Ali. It was a beautiful stay with the most life changing experiences. When I returned people asked me questions that I am sure Kashmiri's are used to hearing. To be honest, we were on a mountaintop and it was surreal how much calm, camaraderie, and yes, healing was part of my everyday. There was commotion, distress and of course internet shutdowns. But living there made me realise many things.
I was transported back to that space all night on Sunday and all day Monday. Sometimes it has been the hardest experience to speak of and other times the easiest. A people from whom so much has been taken in the past (and we still take) have hope. I went there feeling dejected about some personal stuff and returned filled with hope about worlds that were possible.
This was only because of the people I met, I lived with and shared my time with. Especially, the children. I still think of them today as we make decisions for them without their say. As we upturn their educational journey with more curfews and disturbances and restrictions. As we shake the ground that they began to walk on again. Trying to build lives for themselves.
One of the reasons, I think I loved this experience of living there was the need I felt to just listen. To know they were telling me a truth I hadn't heard. To absorb how much their lives were affected by this. It felt wrong to speak. It still does. But part of me knows we cannot stay silent. Especially now.
Today, as my government, the Indian government, makes drastic changes in a troubled space, I worry. Worry about their well being. About their future. Not just in an existential manner but in a manner that my life will always be connected to them.
After all, none of us are free, till all of us are free.
I imagine it's hard to be on a path of healing when the world and your ideals are being challenged constantly. When everything you know to be true is changed. When hate has more volume than love. How do we even begin to think of healing for people affected by conflict, natural and man-made? How do we build something that has love and kindness within it? What will we do? As people, as those who believe in humanity and healing for all?
Food experiments
It has been a hard week with very little cooking. Exhaustion has meant I only cooked in bulk for the entire day. This was something I quickly whipped up.
4 eggs
One sausage
One onion
Fry the onion in a bit of butter. In the meantime, whip the 4 eggs together. Allow it to become foamy. I did this with the help of a whisk.
Once done set aside. Add pieces of the sausage to the onions and quickly fry it some.
Finally, mix in the foamy eggs. Let it cook for a bit before you mix the entire mixture.
Keep mixing till the egg is fully cooked. Add salt and pepper on top.
Finally add cheese! I added the feta I had at home :)
Dear you,
My heart is with the people of Kashmir and Assam as they are put through
some difficult times. Stand together, folk. Let's stand together.
Love, kindness and warmth,
Nidsitis
'I’ve been circling for thousands of years and I still don’t know: Am I a falcon, a storm, or a great song?' - Rainer Maria Rilke