Pokhara
Shiva has been loitering around my table lately. a waiter at Tea Time for a few years now, i befriended him last year during my long breakfasts and lunches on his terrace.
over the past week he has become increasingly sweet, and increasingly unsure. i do not want to encourage whatever fantasy is developing in his mind, and wish to erase whatever might be going on (not so uncommon between the more naive locals and innocently friendly tourists); but i also do not want to unnecessarily detract from the friendship that had developed.
when i walk in this morning at 9.30, Shiva is particularly adoring. he waves his finger at my clothes. "you looks very nice," he says, wobbling his head from side to side. i actually look terrible. i haven't slept much. my pants are baggy. my hoodie is sitting weirdly. and my scarf matches nothing. everything is in laundry. "thanks Shiva."
"what you do today?" (ths is always, without fail, the first question.)
"i'm finishing up today. i leave tomorrow."
"leave?"
"yes. kathmandu."
"tomorrow?"
"yep."
his faces contorts a bit. something that happens when his brain is under strain. i pretend not to notice. a few seconds pass.
"when back to pokhara?"
"i don't know. maybe in one month after kopan, to see lama yeshe. maybe not. i don't know."
he looks worried now, brows furrowed. i am starting to feel bad. disappointment, i have always felt, is the worst of all emotions. it lingers. it ruins things.
still, i don't have the heart to change the topic or crack a joke. better to just break off the conversation. how did this happen anyway? when did he become so earnest? does he really think that... ?
i pour myself some hot lemon ginger from the pot he has brought me, pick up my book, and give him one of those, "okay then..." nods. "okay," he says, understanding.
i try to find my sentence on the page. he leans away half a step, sways back, wavers, sways forward. i can see his feet in my peripheral vision. please shiva. suddenly, he turns sharply on his heal. he is towering over me.
"you are a good friend," he says. "you are my best friend."
he is looking straight into my eyes. he is, with the victory of fear overcome, smiling a big, honest smile. then, "okay," he says, and is gone.
that was all he wanted to say. humbled, touched, and wishing i had said something in return, i kind of stare into space for a while.
david gray is playing in the background, as usual. i have avoided this music all year. and now i start my day with it almost every morning. i have tried, passively, to reclaim it as a soundtrack to new days. still, its melodies never fail to lay memories at my feet. in my tea cup. sending remembered sensations into my fingers, my back.
shiva's sincere gesture has somehow softened me up, and the music pours into me. i feel happy, but my buoyancy is full of nostalgia. i know this will be my day now. nostalgia. i will remain sensitive to my surroundings, but with an open and grateful heart.
it was only a small prod, from Shiva. fairly insignificant, really. but it shows me that i am still blowing around in the breeze, albeit now a happier leaf. for most of the year, i have been completely susceptible to my environment. feigning consistency, but really knocked about in a constant storm of events and conversations and moments, each of which have direct access to my emotions, no matter how pedestrian (a butcher barking at me for being indecisive, a crying child's wet fingers, a sunset i need obscured by clouds).
now, increasingly, i wake up feeling a certain way, and remain that way all day. i feel funnier, cheekier, more open in my chest, and somewhere in there, unafraid. my mood is good, and it remains that way. events desirable, or less so, are simply swallowed into my vibe, instead of my vibe being swallowed by events.
my trip did not started like this, to be honest. i was feigning consistency for a while there, among the palm trees. but in the past days, i have noticed this buoyancy. it feels vaguely familiar, from a time long ago.
"Ilana?" I hadn't seen him approach.
"Hey Shiva."
"Today i have time after 11. Maybe we spend time?"
Now it is my mind that is straining.
"No Shiva, I am sorry. Last day. Very busy."
"No time?"
"No."
"And after 10? After work finis?"
"I am sorry Shiva. I will be with friends. I am sorry."
i'm really not sure where this is going anymore, but i wish it would get there. surely this doesn't need to be dramatic. plus, David Gray is still playing. this isn't the replacement soundtrack I was imagining.
"Shiva..."
"Yes."
"You are a good friend, too. you are a very good friend. but just friend, okay? just friend."
He looks worried again. then insecure. then busted. then just normal.
"Yes yes, okay. No problem."
"Okay," i say with finality.
"Okay."
I give him a warm, reassuring smile. I pick up my book. Shiva walks away. A few minutes pass.
"Ilana?"
"Yes"
"After you finis Kopan, maybe we go trekking?"
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
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