“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.” 
― Mark Twain

flashback catalonia

Suddenly recalled what Paco said.
i caught sight of a flimpsy news article, carefully trimmed at its edge, and placed neatly within the transparent slip of a file. He opened and showed it to me – there was a man’s photograph beaming proudly; i knew it was him. It looked like some celebratory news of sorts, bold headline in Spanish, an important man in the newspaper. ‘That’s me,’ he grinned proudly. He had won some prize back then.
The news article had pen marks that circled and underlined particular words. I peered closer. ‘Let me tell you a story,’ he said. ‘When I won this prize, I told my dad and he said nothing. He didn’t hug me, he didn’t celebrate, he didn’t say much at all.’
‘I thought he didn’t care about it.’
‘When my father passed away last year, I found this news article in his room. Kept neatly in a file. That was when I realized for the first time so many years on, that he was actually proud of me. He was proud of his son.’
He beamed.

Post-exchange blues oozing out right about… now

photo by cher

I can’t hold it in anymore – I miss exchange so sorely, so very much. 😥

I tell myself to be forward-looking, to not dwell too much upon the nostalgic past because I don’t want to compromise on the present in lamenting overwhelmingly upon the beautiful days. But awhile ago I caught sight of a line by Plath: “I fell into bed again this morning, begging for sleep, withdrawing into the dark, warm, fetid escape from action, from responsibility” How much these words speak to me!

Those colder days where I snuggled under the covers at ease (my precious duvet!) being able to wake up with no urgency at all. I would lie awake in the mornings, dawdle for abit (or longer), and get up only when I wanted to. In these heavier times now, I am filled with a deep sense of longing to take flight again, to leave and prance around in foreign lands with a wonderment and awe of everything that’s due to happen. Ah, that sweet, temporal escape from routine and reality…

For now, though, I’m stuck behind the assignments and the deadlines and the laptop with the erratic trackpad. I know, I know, it pretty much ends next Friday, just a little short s t r e t c h now.

Whenever I walk into the supermarket and look at the bananas and grapes I just think so fondly of the Loughborough Town Hall and the lovely Fruits Lady who gave me apricots and the blueberries and raspberries and grapes – I never knew the NTUC grapes were so expensive in comparison!!! Sigh. 
When will I return to (rather, recreate another of) that chapter of my life again? I can’t help but wonder.