Today I saw The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. Suffice to say that it’s an absolutely wonderful movie. There’s a scene in the movie when Walter Mitty skates down a long road on a skateboard to get to an air field. I absolutely loved that scene and I smiled all through it. Some might say that the colours in that scene come alive. I just think that scene made me feel free.
In the evening, I met a Bookhad friend. He had brought along his cycle which he said he would “introduce me to the joys of”. Although we had planned to meet at a Kashmiri tea house up on a hill, we had to cut the meeting short because I had also other places to be. Nonetheless, he told me to have a go on his cycle, which, after some difficulty of getting on to I was able to ride. I took it around the lanes and even on the roads of Seawoods. Made me wonder why I don’t cycle more often. Made me very happy, too.
That I woke up at a sane hour and made healthy notes in my notebook was another highlight to my day. That my day started with writing seems to have worked as a charm on how the rest of it went. Today’s Sunday was like how we had back in school. Remember those times when Sundays were special? Like those.
I’ve noticed that on most days I feel like a teenage girl, again. In some punctuated segments of time I tilt my head back and laugh. I blush at compliments. I re-weave my dreams. Not all the time, but in pronounced lengths of time, I feel like time wound up and went backwards until it rolls back into the present. However, when I’m not buying green tea for N and myself, or discussing Nihilism with Boy, or listening to F talk about how badly his book is going (which is a lie, because mine is even slower than his) I look at myself in reflective surfaces and am glad at what stares back at me.