Thoughts of a minibus traveller

I told the guys I was going to walk extra, to keep walking back East on the wall so I could see the moon get brighter in the sky. I was waiting to go and walk. It was a roughish day. My legs felt heavy. Body felt heavy. A lot of the dysfunctions surfaced and much as I tried to stay focussed... it was difficult. Two friends asked 'how things?' and I did not answer. Things are taking long to do.. but I finished one other task with sadness too. But finishing is good. Stepped out for a cane juice to calm my head down - man said he ran out of lothas. Tea was nice, whole wheat raisin bread with nut butter. This was not what I wanted to do.. to eat and eat - but managing. On the seawall, I started the dry crying again, thinking of some of the interactions which seem to part of the mud. I wanted to stop and sit down. But I kept going. Reached UG and did not get to exercise. Walked back. Saw two guys.. I know. Universe is amazing how it works. These guys.. both intelligent an...

It is morning. The mundane beckons. The fridge is to be cleaned up. (For those who do not know, defrosting is what you do every now and then to the fridge to get rid of any ice build up and to clean it) Simple task. It is nice, methodical, rhythmic - take out things, wipe, put back. The task is completed. Feel good. I still cannot find the damned TIN certificate - but I feeling mellow, I clean up, cart out two salt bags full of junk to the rubbish bin. Work is there to be done but the mind is not on it. Trying to adjust to all the changes which have come my way - all at once. Or thinking to just ignore them all and go read a book. On the way to the GRA office, I have a soursop and banana smoothie, I tell the lady to hold on the sugar. A child is selling genip. I cringe.. child sit down, say "buy someting for me". I say, "dont beg anybody fuh nutting". I ask .. "where is your father". He said his father is in mon repos. I ask where is your mother...

The woman insisted.. they needed my TIN certificate for the address verification. I bore up. I had made some effort to come down. The last few days, I have been doing tasks one at a time. Simple things take hours to do and I try to do simple tasks so that I could feel a sense of achievement. But - not this task.   I walked out of the bank and come out in the Sun again. The sun is good. In my head, I know where the TIN certificate is. The bright sun and the heat.. feel good. The part which wants the cool dark place is not being satisfied. The bright heat counters that. I come home. I cannot find the TIN certificate. I hold up. Not now. Wait and look for it. I start looking for it. Everywhere. I keep calm.. I do not become frustrated. Simple tasks are taking longer. I start packing up, thinking of the papers to throw out.  The good thing about having this kind of temporary shared space.. is that I have to keep throwing things out to make space for new things. I a...

{Sent also as a letter to the editor of the four newspapers) Ron Somerset, Shemroy Bouyea and Ivan Lewis  are now martyrs to Guyana's version of independent and republic democracy. While the rest of the world was celebrating Mandela's birthday on 18th July,  part of Guyana was infuriated and shocked as the police continued their proud legacy of not being able to recognise humanity in those that they encounter. And as a further symptom of our proud legacy of independence and civilization.. the words 'unfortunate' and 'tragic' are used to describe what is in fact brutal, sickening and deserving of immediate sanctions. And the victims we are told, are to blame. They choose to be in the line of live bullet rounds the narrative goes, and the ones to blame are the 'instigators'.. like how Cheddi Jagan and Janet Jagan are to blame for the police killing of the Enmore Martyrs? And then the Police.. in a press statement say that there was...

"Love?... Love?.... Love is not safe my Lady Silk, love is dangerous. It is deceitfully sweet like the wine from a fresh palm tree at dawn.... But when we need to count on human strength, and when we have to count pennies for our stomachs and clothes for our backs, love is nothing. Ah my lady.. the last man any lady should think of marrying is the man she loves.' Esi is a professional woman living in Accra. She separates from her husband much to the consernation of her mother and grandmother and best friend. She falls in love with Ali, who is already married. Ali proposes to Esi to be his second wife. Ama Atta Aidoo sets this love story in Accra, Ghana. Her characters are linked to different traditions and norms and it is not easy for Esi and Ali to simply get married. This love story is interesting in that while it shows on the one hand a woman making a choice to be single; on the other hand it shows the dilemma of following a traditional structure of polygamy with some ...

I can't swim. Much less swim in mud. It has been like that though, the last few weeks. The feelings of heaviness and also the subconscious which is also struggling with the feelings of heaviness. It has been intense. And important decisions have been made and followed through.. creating necessary changes. Perhaps the heaviness is reacting to those changes.  The resignation from SASOD.. or  the divorce or the loss of dreams. The failure to make peace after a dream which seemed to tell me that I should make peace. Guilt that I have not done the work I should have been doing... and guilt that I have to say no now to some work as I try to recover.  Somewhere though, there is perhaps, another part of the mind which is survival. I wonder if the 'mad' people who know how to cross the road, and how to look for food, if they also have that part of their mind which helps with survival?  The craving for a cool dark room to lie in forever.. is not met due to the heat and b...

Dinner was late. Bake and baigan choka. Nice, spicy. Stomach was tense from the stress. Or maybe from the hot fudge brownie sundae with too much whipped cream earlier in the day. http://www.simplytrinicooking.com/2008/02/sada-roti-and-baigan-eggplant-choka.html Woke up at midnight. Tossed and turned. Started dozing fitfully and dreams.. weird dreams.. one part of the brain saying wake up to stop them, but then not waking up. Not nightmares. One dream though.. stands out. I am going house to house, kind of like Jehovah Witnesses and other Christians , sharing out flyers and invitations house to house for a Hindu function. West Coast I think. As I leave one of the houses which I thought was a Hindu home , a former friend, a Christian, comes running out. I try walking away. He comes behind me.. smiling..holding one of the flyers - he says.. "I know about these things, about how to do this sharing of flyers and so on, let me show you how to.." In the dream though, I d...

De man tell me dat he doan wan' nuttin fuh do wid gay men. Dey does blackmail yuh. He sit down and we gaffing one night at de Film Festival . He seh dat everybody should work for family - an' he got he child mother an' a son an' he gun married as soon as deh house finish buildin'. He say dat he disappointed dat I don't agree dat he should be living like dat - dat he an' his friend (who also gat a child mother and a child) - want to ensure dat dey have stable families but dat dey will indulge dey desires on de side. I ask about fidelity an' so.. an' de man laff an' seh, nobody dese days faithful an' yuh cyan trust nobody. He seh dat he doan want nuttin' to do wid no gay man because he cud get blackmail - dat gay man wud go an' tell an' suh. He say he suprised dat odder men would not want to do de same ting, to provide for a family while being on de down low. De odder man ask me who I living wid. I say wid my parents. De man look...