Mundane etc.

We connect through the mundane: through jokes about our teachers’ shoes, and what to have for lunch. We connect through musings on the life choices and characters of people we care nothing about, and we connect through similar sights and similar feelings. Every once in a while we wonder why exactly we are as close as we are. Why we call each other up to whine or ramble, or why we think of each other when individually enjoying ourselves the most. But we usually don’t have any answers. Well, here’s the answer:

We connected through the mundane.

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Holly and the Jew ran off together to Timbuktu. They’d never been more than 5 miles outside their neighbourhood. So Holly said to the Jew: “If we’re leaving, might as well do it properly. Might as well run off with some pizzazz.”

The Jew, poor man, agreed. He packed a change of clothes, and all the money he had: earned and stolen. Holly packed a stick of red lipstick, red pumps, a change of clothes and everything small, light and expensive (that she could remember to) from her house. Holly and the Jew ran off together to Timbuktu.

Holly and the Jew silently realized during their adventures that occurred beyond the 5 mile mark that they knew nothing of the world. They were young, naïve, poor.

But slowly, Holly and the Jew made it to Timbuktu. They were older, stronger, and a little less naïve.

And they missed home.

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She has the chills. The goose bumps. There is a dizzy rhythm in the way her thoughts surface. Like a diver searching for pearls in unopened oysters, she’s excited about what each new thought brings to her.

But, like the diver, she is prepared for a full-fledged battle with disappointment.

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This trip was quite interesting. There was lotus lake, dinner in Jinnah super and the panicky recall home after the bomb blast at Luna Capris, piercings, movies and conversations triggered by a readers’ digest published book called Ask Yourself. There was a surreal experience in a committee party, and fun with kids. I like kids. They’re cool. I also crashed the poor guy’s car. I guess I do need to practice more.