And the good news is.....

Not only am I still alive and kicking (not that it was really ever touch and go, but still), I got my first postcard! From, of course, Saks, my sister who is now stopped traveling and is in DC finishing up law school. It was a very sweet postcard addressed to both Mick and I and it is in Ampara and I am in Colombo which is why I have not written about it as yet since I wanted to do it justice but I suppose I can wait.

Bill in Liberia said that there is no functioning postal system in Liberia. I don't believe him and think he is just being a lazy. A lazy lazy. Both adjective and noun.

So, ends up that I have an enlarged liver. Not so nice. Either some strain of typhus or tick bite fever. And I was on the mend too, which was annoying since I felt lovely a week ago for about half a day and then crashed all of a sudden again. Another round of tests, possibly...no, probably tomorrow and then back to good ole Ampara on Thursday. My time in Colombo has been lovely. I have been a grown up living with my boss and his family (I made a big fuss and was being a total baby about coming out to Colombo since I complained that no one would look after me and better to be miserable in Ampara where atleast Mick could see me pathetically passed out on my bed than being alone in some hotel room in Colombo....still had bad memories of my rib recovery from the last time). Anyhow, so my boss and his lovely family have been looking after me, cooking lovely meals, having birthday parties and just all around being great company which I am sure has speeded my recovery. And no, he doesn't really read my blog (though he should every once in a while for content to make sure I am not crossing any lines and he claims that he has at least once come on here), so I don't have to be nice about him just in case he might be on here. His son, however, does read my blog...well, one of them does at least so I should be more careful since....since I should.

He owes me a postcard.

No photos. No real stories either. I could come up with some if I tried. I should. But later. And no, I didn't finish my thesis and the party I had planned went on without me in Arugam Bay. Sad, but true.

Bits and Bobs

I did mean to be better about writing. I am being notty. Just a quick one, to say HI to Pam, who commented on my blog and yes, of course I remember you and I need to write a blog entry about my travel writing days in Indonesia and all the people I met and things I saw and first time traveled with a backpack and was not a good backpacker since I don't like being smelly or living in crappy quarters.

The dissertation as I was so nicely reminded by Bill about it and I know you are all agog with exceitement to hear about this: I have not finished it yet. It is due in about a week's time...little more but let's say a week and I am starting to take it seriously, which for me translates to a light at the end of the tunnel. Everyone around me here is being very supportive (and no, no one can read it), and I did some shopping on Amazon and got some really cool books which will make me smart but they won't write my dissertation for me (neither will my sisters, and I thought blood was thicker than anything, goes to show you).

I still love work. My luggage is still lost. I bought new clothes. And new shoes. And all sorts of pretty dishes. Plan ongoing to revamp the house. Oh, and most importantly, I finally get what I am doing at work and have started taking ownership of programs and decisions which is both terribly exciting and scary.....would not want it any other way. Will attempt to put up a photo, but it was being bad last time....

And it is still being bad. Next time, but till then, big kisses.

Ah, L-o-n-d-o-n, London.

Back and I like it. There is something nice about being back here. Perhaps since it is only for a week and I am seeing familiar places and familiar faces. I am sitting on the second floor graduate lounge at SOAS where I have spent many a morning, afternoon and evening, reading, studying and sleeping. Great to catch up with my sister as well. All the panic of leaving has subsided, thank god, and thanks for supportive messages (zo) and one of my bags is lost at Heathrow...or in NYC. not really sure. It's the bag with all my clothes and more importantly, all my underwear in it. Oh well. The being zen about everything in life starts now since this is only the beginning of things that will go wrong and it is pointless to get pissed off about it. It's just stuff and one needs to be careful what they wish for since I was saying shit like, who needs stuff, I hate packing, I hate things, etc etc and guess what, Z, now you don't have any stuff so nothing to bitch about anymore.

Me in the grad lounge. More later. Briefings later on this week and I am actually getting some work done on my thesis which is nothing short of a miracle.

TWO HOURS

Ok, three hours but my dad will wake up in two in order to have his tea and check his email and read about the world for an hour before he takes me and my mum to the airport.

I am sitting in the middle of my stuff overflowing from suitcases and I am tempted to throw most of it back in the drawers that I have pulled it out of. I have no idea how much anything weighs and I don't want to know. I want to keep my hands on this keyboard of my pretty little mac which I will also give away, my constant companion for the last year, my big purchase with the big money I made with my first real job...keep my fingers moving, not look up at the time since I know I will forget things and will wonder why I didn't pack more systematically. I was just getting used to being in my room again. There are still drawers in here that I have not properly re discovered. The ghost of Zehra past has been very much alive while I slept, skyped, smoked, read, day dreamed in this room in the last few weeks. She will stay where she is and I will leave.

Ican't turn my suitcase over and just leave everything on the floor. Panic will strike at that moment which I am holding at bay with denial. I got home at midnight (two and a half hours ago) and slept on the couch for an hour. My parents keep asking if I have packed and my response has been to stomp my feet like a four year old and shake my head and say in a four year old's voice, Main NaheeN JaRahee HouN! (I'm Not Going!). I think they have enjoyed asking the last few times just to hear me say that and smile.

I am terribly excited about going to Sri Lanka. And strangely terrified. I realized it is because I don't know when I will see my family next. Usually, there are some milestones, some distance to reach in time, some inevitability that I will see them that keeps me going. Being the family that we are, we don't have anything planned right now. Everyone is too jet set.

Why am I scared? I hate that it keeps peeking out from under all the excitement.

I want to do well. I think I am also scared since this is real. It is not a fluke. I APPLIED for this job. It wasn't right place, right time. I went to school in order to do this. I have talked about it and dreamt about it. I am going to do this. I want to do it well. My expectations of myself must be reasonable. I shall have to be gentle with myself. I think I am perhaps putting undue pressure on myself. Fine, I have worked in Ampara before but no one will expect I know everything and that is just me being crazy. It's new for me. The streets will be the same, but everything else will be new and I need to just realize that everyone knows that.

Rant over. Sorry about that. Momentary panic. It will be ok.
It is ok.

Oh yeah, I still have a THESIS to write.

I'm off. Next stop, London.

And since we are on the theme...

I can try do two things at once. Try and see if I can embed a YouTube dohickey into my blog and also play one of the most amazing scenes from Bollywood, from the movie Sholay . Articles on Indian cinema, most of which end up mentioning Sholay in one way or another are now, finally, prolific and a sampling can be found, here, here and here. The book, Sholay: A Classic in the Making by A. Chopra is an absolute dream to read.



from zero posts for a few days to about a million. Such is the life of Z. Sorry about the no sub titles bit. Will try and find something with subtitles. And while I am googling that will also try and google, "Zehra's thesis that magically wrote itself".