taji

musings

a post i never posted..or completed..i wrote this in july and it had been sitting in my drafts since then:

for a moment yesterday, i didn’t feel like returning to göteborg. sitting at home, in front of the tv, waiting for the calamine lotion to stop burning the rash spread all over my body, for some reason i didn’t want to leave home again. my cousin and i had just returned from a trip to our village in lamjung and i now had only two weeks left in kathmandu.

taji, of course, felt different without baje. he was gone and so was his bed on the porch. his radio was put away in the closet and all i had was memories of him. i kept imagining what he would have said had he been there. what we would have talked about and what new videos he had shot since our last visit, exactly a year ago.

taji also felt different with its new roads. roads that have cut through maize terraces and destroyed old chautaris. familiar stone paved paths, chopped off and separated by the dozer. it’s true that the dirt roads have made our journeys easier. the jeep rides take us hours closer to taji in a single day, but it also makes one sad that soon we will forget the old way to the village – the one that went up and down and through the hills.

musings

I once read that we shed
thousands of dead cells each day

The dust collected under the bed must then carry my dead cells.
And I must breathe them in as I sweep
and try to collect them in piles.