Will you marry me?

about six years later... 18 December 2011, Chiang Mai

I asked Franny to marry me a few days ago on a deserted beach on the island of Koh Phra Thong. She said yes. The ring I bought didn't fit but somehow that doesn't matter that much. At least she liked the ring itself.

On our first date we went to Chiang Mai Kitchen in Oxford. I remember both F and T thought it was over the top going to a fancy restaurant but I thought fuck it. Also, at the time it was the only restaurant I liked in Oxford. After dinner we went to G&D's. I'm pretty sure I had Bananarama. We would come to eat a lot of Bananarama in the next few months.

Anyway, it's weird to be typing this from an internet cafe in the real Chiang Mai. Today we ate some great Khao soi and then later in the evening a lot of amazing street food at the Sunday market. In fact, the Sunday market is still going on but I decided to take a break. I'm drinking a cold Chang classic in the internet cafe - Thailand is a chilled out country. Tomorrow, we are taking an all day cooking class. I'm in the middle of reading 1Q84. Angry birds are huge in Thailand. It all feels very natural. Strange how life plays out.

close your eyes....

Life is really out there. Things can stay the same for ages. And then suddenly things happen very quickly. I'm with a really nice girl. And you're not going to believe this - her real name is Fran.

oops

That wasn't Franny.

chips & cheese & beans

I want a nice story. I mean everyone has some story or the other but I want a nice one. For some reason, that's really important to me. I want to remember when I first saw Franny. I want to remember the early stages. How I spent ages thinking about her. How I wondered if she might be Franny. When we first went out. What we ate. Silly things like that. And then years later I want us to laugh about it.

It is a cold november night. This is the first time I've gone out with Franny alone. I am sitting with her on a bench outside Trinity eating kebabs and chips & cheese & beans (she tells me the beans are very important because they help the cheese melt). My hands are cold. I hold the box with the kebab and she holds the chips. We reach over each other to dig into the chips and the kebab respectively. And then suddenly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she digs her fork into the chips and feeds me.

it's not dark yet, but it's getting there

Late last night, I took the bus from London to Cambridge. I listened to REM on my IPOD and watched the rain fall and the road pass by. The couple across the aisle slept in each others arms. I felt like I was on a long trip somewhere far away (South America?) but I was just going back to my flat.

I don't think many people read this blog but for those of you who have been checking in, I'm sorry I have written so little off late. But with the winter almost here (or is it here already? when does it really arrive?), I know I will start writing again soon.

play the hunch

I think Franny doesn't like nightclubs that much. Or fancy dress parties. It's just a hunch but I'm good with hunches. And you've got to play the hunch. Well, at least I do.

9 to 5

I don't remember exactly how I fell into the 9 to 5 schedule. I didn't have to go to office or anything like that. I guess it just happened. I think I kept it up for two weeks. And I am glad that I did because it was very good for work. Somehow, there was a sense of purpose and the ideas (if you can call them that) came when I needed them.

Often, in the past, I had come close to keeping this schedule but this was the first time that there was a consistency in the routine. In some ways, it was very strange. Not strange bad, but not good strange either. After a few days, it slowly started taking a toll on me. In ways that are hard to describe. I felt displaced and tired, like a fish swimming against the current. Physically though, I was fine. I made it a point to go for a walk every day at 6pm. And then I'd cook myself a good meal at about 8pm. It couldn't have been sleep - I was getting exactly 8 hours of sleep. Maybe it was the solitude? Or the intensity of the project? In the end, I think it was being out of sync with everyone else. After all, not many people sleep between 9am and 5pm.

the right shoe

I've loved shoes (sneakers to be exact) ever since I was a kid. I actually don't really remember my childhood but that's what my aunt tells me. When asked what I wanted for my birthday, apparently I would shoot back - PT shoes. Not LEGO, but PT shoes. But maybe you don't know what PT shoes are. They're these light white rubber shoes with two stripes on the sides and a thin sole. Sort of like the trendy 'converse' shoes in the market these days. Unlike converse shoes, PT shoes are really cheap (yes, it wasn't a very clever present to ask for but I was ten). PT shoes are really comfortable. And they were the first shoes I really liked. When I started running much later in life, I was really excited about buying NIKE AIR. Then I progressed to ASICS.

But like life, my shoes have come full circle (actually, my life hasn't come full circle). Last month, I wanted to buy a pair of simple sneakers I could just wear casually (they say its not good to wear your running shoes when you're not running). So I went to this boutique shoe shop with my friend. And the way I often instantly like someone (or come to think of it, dislike someone instantly), I liked this one pair. My friend liked them too. They were expensive and 20 pounds more than my budget. We both looked at the shoes for a while. Then my friend said, its just one dinner. Yeah, just one dinner, I said.

I walked out of the shop wearing my brand new white sneakers. Now here's the funny thing: the left shoe was the most comfortable shoe in the world but not so the right one.

A month later, the right shoe still gives me some trouble. But it's getting better. Some days, it's almost like its neighbour (the left shoe). You might find this a bit strange, but I feel that the day I find Franny, the right shoe will fit like the left. I feel.

crazy

There are so many people in this world.

Right this moment - there is a person getting married, a person trying to climb a mountain, a person writing software code, a person hungry and looking for food, a person reviewing yet another book, a person masturbating, a person cooking alu parathas, a person violating somoene else, a person playing nintendo, a person wading through the floods in the Bay of Bengal, a person dreaming, a person watching television, a person making up an ad for Coca Cola, a person ploughing his field, a person leaving Houston in fear of Hurricane Rita, a person doing cocaine (maybe Kate Moss?), a person typing away on his laptop....

All these people.

I wonder what Franny is doing.

kind of blue

There are many kinds of sadness. Just like there are many shades of blue. As time goes by, you discover new shades of blue. And you also forget old shades - they start to fade like blue jeans. It's hard to remember what the jeans looked like when you first bought them. Time is a strange thing.

One kind of blue seems to have stayed with me forever. I don't remember exactly when I first discovered this shade of blue but once I did, it became a part of me. And then it would randomly choose to appear when it felt like it. Just like that September evening in Cambridge.

I left my apartment wearing jeans and a light fleece. There was a bite in the air. A fresh cold bite. The air was heavy with rain and the sky was grey. Summer had gone for good and autumn would soon turn to winter. I walked through the parks and felt the grass under my white sneakers. My friend Liz had just returned from India and I was going over for a drink. I walked inhaling the water in the air. Her boyfriend Tom opened the door for me and greetings were exchanged amidst much laughter - the way greetings are exchanged when you haven't seen each other for a while.

John was already there - he had his guitar with him. Liz opened a bottle of red wine. We drank wine and Liz told us stories about India. She had had a great time in India but you could
tell she was thrilled to be with Tom again. Then John started to play his guitar. Liz sat on Tom's lap and sang along. 'Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be so hard....' I sat there listening to the chords of the guitar and Liz singing and suddenly a wave of that blue swept over me.

The old shades of blue passed by like fields in a slow moving train in India. I sipped my wine and suddenly felt very tired. I wasn't sad about anything in particular. I had the strength to carry on but I wasn't sure I even cared. For some reason, I felt very alone. There were people I could call but I didn't want to call anyone. I finished my wine and said I had to go. Liz asked me to stay longer but I told her I had to wake up early the next day.

It was dark and it had started drizzling. The cold drops stung my face. In some ways, I was glad that I was in England. I remember being blue in California. Every day, I would wake up in the morning and the bright sun would mock me. I walked back slowly looking at the tall spires and smelling the rain. Across the road, a young couple huddled under an umbrella. My mind went blank, I just walked in the rain.

It was nice to be back in my room. I dried myself and then put on some Miles Davis - 'Kind of Blue'. I poured myself a whisky over some ice cubes. Clink. I sat there drinking my whiskey and the old shades of blue passed by again. I closed my eyes and felt the sadness spread through my veins. I forgot about everything for a while, even Franny.

glass eyes

The little fish died today.

a phone call

One day, I woke up and realised that I hadn't received a phone call in a week. It wasn't that suprising since not that many people call me but I still found it odd. Then at lunch I met a friend who told me he had tried to call but that I never picked up - it just keeps ringing, he said. I figured out that day that the ringer wasn't working. I decided not to fix it. That way no one could wake me up in the morning. And I could still make calls.

About a week later, I was in bed and I heard the phone ringing. It's just a dream I told myself. In my dream, I picked up the phone but the ringing didn't stop. Finally, I realised it was the phone in my room. But the ringer doesn't work, I thought. I stumbled across the room and picked it up. It was Franny. When she heard my groggy voice she said she was sorry she had woken me up and then hung up. I couldn't call her back because I didn't know where she was.

The next few days the phone remained silent. I decided to check if the ringer was actually working. I called my sister and asked her to call me back. I looked at the phone but it just sat there, still as a dead volcano. Then I picked it up. Did it ring? my sister asked me. No, I replied. I said goodbye to my sister and looked at the phone for a long time. Then I randomly picked it up again, just in case Franny was trying to get through.

the fish

I went inside and sat down in the armchair. The fishtank glowed in the dark. The little grey fish looked at me. Over the years I had gotten used to him looking at me. I bought the fish tank when I started college. That was seven years ago. My then girlfriend thought it was a great idea to get a fish tank for my room so we went to this shop which sold all kinds of animals and bought the fish tank and four fish. Three goldfish and one small little fish. It was my idea to get the little fish. I don't know what exactly possessed me to get him. I didn't even know what breed he was. I still don't know actually. He was very average. Small and grey with a red tail. And he had these eyes which made it look like he was worried that if he stopped swimming he would die. So he kept swimming and looking around.

She gave them all names but I've long since forgotten them. In any event, the goldfish all died the first month (we overfed the fish). But the little fish survived. We got some more fish. My girlfriend dumped me. More fish died and I replaced them. I finished college and moved cities. I took the fish tank with me. In the seven years that I've had the fish tank, so many fish have died that I've lost count. But that small little fish is still around. And he still has that worried look in his eyes which says he had better keep swimming.

cows

It was the day after the concert - I was late for lunch but I wasn't really too bothered. I adjusted the volume on my brand new black & red ipod and glanced at the tube map again just to make sure I was at the right platform. There were very few people around, Sunday I guess. The train rolled in to the platform and I got in and found myself a seat. A couple sitting across me caught my eye. They had identical plastic shopping bags with cows printed on them. Lots of cows. And they were both ugly, very ugly. You could tell that he was quite troubled. Or maybe he always looked like that. She was in some kind of trance looking at nothing in particular. She looked a bit retarded actually. They were probably in their 30s, married for sure. Shiny Happy People started to play on my ipod. Could they be happy? Could they be having good sex? I looked away. Through the glass I was able to see the next platform. Another couple. They were young and beauitful, at least she was. They were waiting for their train, if you could call it waiting. They had their arms around each other, her hands underneath his jacket. They started to kiss each other slowly - not sloberring over each other the way some couples kiss in public. Then suddenly, she stood up on tiptoe and kissed him on his forehead. The doors shut and our train pulled away. I was left looking at the ugly couple. And the cows.

1.

Today, I was standing at the window and I saw the couple who live downstairs leave the building. They're both white. He is from Kenya (but he only says he grew up there) and she is from the US. He was wearing a bright yellow shirt. I don't think I could ever wear a bright yellow shirt. Pink maybe. But bright yellow? I wonder if she chose it for him. Probably not. He is the type who would choose to wear a bright yellow shirt. Looking at them walk towards the gate of the complex, I got a sudden pang. I don't know what it was. Here was this white guy who had grown up in Kenya and now he was walking around Cambridge with a bright yellow shirt. Soon they were gone and I was left staring at the path. I went inside and made myself some green tea.