Spring

It was lovely sitting outside a small rustic cafe while the temperature was pleasing and the wind welcomed. A little reminder that there is a world outside of the hectic speed-walking pavements around South Kensington. The waitress spoke to us gently, but mainly to herself, and the television was on though no one was really watching. It was a day too good for television shows, which are best left for cold and depressing days.

There were two cars that criss-crossed by each other with smooth and graceful strokes; a little unrehearsed dance.

Spring.

Daddy

Today’s Dad’s birthday.

To the one who has always been the calm amongst the chaos; to the one who taught me to be, above all, logical and morale, I salute you. There are lessons in life that are best taught by showing, and my Dad is a master at that; to subtly and effortless inculcate values by actions, not words.

Also, I heard that he ran down to the letter box upon hearing that I sent him a letter. How cute is my Father?!

Lightened

The air has lightened, the days seem longer and the night less chilly; spring is definitely on her way. Celebrate by making yourself a little zucchini risotto, the half and hour in front of the stove would translate into a plate of creamy and luxurious risotto with a very rich mouth feel.

Top it with something exciting, say spicy chicken wings. Also, make a tart and refreshing  zucchini ribbons salad to tame the heat.

Also, having sent out the email, all I can hope for now is a yes.

Focaccia

There is no smell more revitalising than that of a loaf of bread fresh out of the oven. Fruity olive oil, aromatic rosemary and crunchy crust….

If you are interested, the recipe is below. Not mine though, I adapted it from a book.

Warm days

Peanut butter and banana on toast, with cinnamon. A all-butter croissant and a cup of black magic.

Everyday seems to be a little lesson in ambition. I would start the day strong, wanting to get plenty of things done and I would be all excited and motivated only to feel the energised momentum slowly creeping away. By midday, I am mostly useless. I don’t even bother at night.

But I don’t go all stressed out by it. I tell myself that any work done is good work.

The days are, thankfully, warming up and that definitely makes it rather hard to be depressed at all. Spring is nearing and this year’s cold has been so tolerable, so kind almost.

So even though I did absolutely nothing exciting today, though it is a Saturday, I’m keeping myself happy with the food I enjoyed. Small things are enough to make me happy, and the tiniest joys are the anchors that we must hold on to.

Gifts

An excellent idea was brought up by a thoughtful person. It was suggested that a little something be made for those who served, and for those who shall serve.  Two honey and nectarine upside down cakes were made, one beautifully perfect and another cruelly ugly.

Life is like that, it doesn’t always work out. I did all I could to prepare the cake tins but perfection eluded one of the cakes. Similarly, somethings just aren’t meant to be. Though in some cases, we must remember that it is not a test of character, it is a test of fit.

In the case of cake, it was purely my fault.

Giving the givers felt amazingly right.

Make an effort

The best cure for monotony and a general lack of enthusiasm is a good breakfast trip. Not lunch or dinner but breakfast since it can set the entire day’s rhythm right.

A little disappointing the croissant was but nothing was going to dull my glorious morning. The birds were singing (really) and the temperature was gentle and comforting. A nice breeze with refreshing coolness, not one that slaps you rudely with harsh chill, is bound to make one feel much better.

A surprisingly generous portion of smoked salmon made up for the incompetence of the croissant. A little saltiness and a hint of smokiness from the salmon atop the smooth scrambled eggs heavily dusted with pepper made for the perfect start to the day.

There are things this week that I look forward to. Surprisingly, I’m mightily interested in an event that is to come that really shouldn’t matter to me. But somehow, I feel involved. Perhaps because I’m concerned for the people in it, or for those who want to get it, or maybe I’m just plain curious and like to bathe in the air of excitement.

Make today awesome my friends. :]

inevitable alteration

I can’t believe that I am still writing about it, but today’s trip to Portsmouth seemed, somehow, very final. We know things would change hence forth but that realisation was sharp and painful. As someone sagely wrote, the dispersion was forced upon us just as we “started to feel like a family”.  This saddens me to a far larger scale than I’d thought I would be.

Changes can be scary sometimes.

Final

I know many days have passed but it is only now that I feel the finality of things. The last meeting and the little reminder on a card made me a little more introspective than I usually allow myself to be. Cards are important things, the written thoughts and feelings encapsulated forever in words. Unlike memory, these won’t ever fade.

It was a leap of faith, to agree and than promise to bring something to live. To breathe into the characters lying between words personas, to create out of absolutely nothing the people to populate the world. But it wasn’t what was created that made me feel as empowered as I do. It was how people felt. The audience, naturally, but the other members of the show more importantly. To know that there was collaborative momentum really inspired me.

I cannot put into words the things I feel. But it feels incredible.

And I sat there, overwhelmed.

At the end of it all, it was never really about any one person, was it? It had always been about a group of people that came together, and created a little world much better than the one we knew and understood. It was about the place, the people, the emotions, and the story that was made more real that it had the right to be.

It was never about the lights, nor the sound. Not the diction, not the blocking, not the song and not the mistakes. It was the world, it was creation.

It was about sitting there and watching everyone do their best, and be so touched it hurt to see it end. But then, to still stand strong and be the usual cheerful self because there was no place for sadness. Standing up there during the curtain call, I almost felt embarrassed. Why was I standing there when I had no role in the performance? The credits were to the creators and movers of the world, not the one who sat in front all along and pointed out mistakes. That was hardly difficult.

I knew that everyone did their best, that everyone who made mistakes were incredibly affected by it and that there was pride in the production. Please understand that mistakes were unacceptable only up to the last rehearsal, on the actual performance, perfection was judged by the things we did right and not the ones we fumbled on.

It was quite an experience. But most importantly, all I could only ask for people to feel theatre and to know how it could make you feel more alive, more real.