Contemplating

Immunology lecture.

The weight of today trampled on my preceding thoughts of what to cook for dinner. The missing bank card, that is. After a stickler process raiding my haversack, turning the bed upside down, whining, jogging round the neighbourhood of poor memory, asking around, brooding, and self-loathing, the only conclusion I could offer was that I left the card at the ATM machine. Which was a preposterously preposterous idea to accept. Already, the sun isn't looking too bright at me, as I anticipate the looming process of reporting, requesting, more whining, phone-calling et al. Your emotion is one tricky rollercoaster ride; yesterday I was gleefully delighting in the non-occasion cake we bought, today I'm a deadwood.

Room, drinking hot chocolate.

Everyone has their own peculiar little acivities to comfort themselves with. My roomie (and ex-roomie)- in a way bizarre to my befuddled mind but not many others', apparently- tidies up the room, with a capital T in bold. I got back one day to find my whole place spick-and-span- the bundle of dried clothes still in their hangers that morning all folded neatly, bed gorgeously gussied up, and my books arranged in order on the table. The 'excuse' given was that she didn't have anything to do. Furthermore, said she, if she was in an angry mood she would do it faster. Most amazing. Someone I know cleans the toilet, which is even more bizarre than cleaning the bedroom. According to the person, scrubbing on the floor, sink, etc. lends her some tang of satisfaction. O-K.

A lot other less-extraordinary people gorge on food, or listen to music; talk to others, and pray, in search for that inner tranquility. I am a lot of the abovementioned things, but the one activity that I found recently to be excellently therapeutic is walking. The cadency of your two feet clapping against the ground is funnily reassuring. And with walking come other little parcels of activities with calming effect on your anxious self- contemplation; talking (if you have walking company); luxuriating in the spectacle of the mahogany leaves showily dancing with the wind, or the evening's ebb budding with brilliant manifestation of colours- all singing His praises; praying for solution to the mysteries of your life (or the missing bank card). All these can be done as you stride past the fancy designer boutiques, brush past tall, gangling Russians, or hike up the hill of muddy earth staining your white shoes black.

So today, as any other day since November arrived, I walked towards my peace- muddy shoes and all. And we had fish for dinner.

"So, verily, with every difficulty, there is relief."- Al-Inshirah: 5


Sunset at the train station