i think there's something wrong with the twinkling satellite in the sky.keeps connecting me to an operator in china when i really want to call england.i guess everyone makes mistakes some time or the other.
my cough is repeated by dad,who is in the other room.we both cough for different reasons,water in my oesaphagus and his chest pains,but somehow it brings us closer together.if i go back about 10-12 years,the structure of the house is almost the same.same direction of bedrooms,same hallway,same creak of the wood when you walk up and down looking for something absent-mindedly.except tht house had so many closets.and little ones even.for example the one just at the top of the stairs where mom kept fooki's secret diapers cuz he sometimes got scared at night even though he was 7...where ahmed and i used a stool as a single desk and a shoe box to collect all the customers' transactions when we used to play 'bank bank'.the closet where mom kept her yellow sweater in that i thought she looked so wonderful in when and if she wore it,cuz really,she always preferred pakistani clothes.the big closet in the basement where there were extra sheets and the photo albums tucked under the hanging extra clothes.wow,what a place to spend a day.it was like visiting a galaxy far,far away.
i was just telling dad the other day how big tabscott drive was when we were kids.how utterly endless were the possibilities for imagining fairies and butterflies and sunlight and sleet.even tho it is expanded now to twice its size,its so,so small.i guess when ur little,you look at everything in awe cuz its so big.then it just loses its charm.the rasberry vines,the tree that's been cut down,the unmowed lawn.
and it all comes back to haunt you when you are alone,or thinking or busy doing something important.memories make me shiver.i stand in my cubicle and freeze for a millisecond as my heart pounds in my ears,the sounds of the store go numb and the customer is smiling at me uncertainly.
i made a lot of little important packages today.sat in my room,spread em all out,fed the little one tootsie rolls and cut away at colourful paper.the little one kept quiet,fed up of candy (?!) and squirmed in her position.'oh no zalaaa..those gloves are broken..!you can't wear those!'i smile and continue listening to ravi shankar or sigur ros or whoever's playing in the background.she reminds me of myself in too many ways i can count.she's demure,and cautious..but talkative and pre-occupied too.she went red in the face from playing too much.i thought it was healthy,so i let her jump on the bed as much as she wanted to=).
i dont have anything else constructive to say (not saying that this was constructive at any point)but i do have to get up in a few hours and i would go to sleep had i not had a book to read,cards to fill,lotion to apply,and people to talk to.