I move my hands over the keys. Everything looks new. The screen, the words everything. Thats what happens when you try to write after a two and a half month break.
I remember 2009 and how I would be eager to type away my present,, my past and some fiction. And now, no more. I am more relaxed, no more in a hurry. There used to be a need to write, to revolutionize thinking and make a change. Not any more. The change first has to become with self, how can I try to change someone else when I remain the same?
The India trip left me in a tizzy. But that is usual, it happens all the time. India has become like any other place; more global maybe. ‘Indianess’ is lost somewhere.
Or maybe just maybe I have become a ‘Bahraini’