A picture of the Strangers Project that sparked the lovely conversation with a friend visiting from NY.
I think every child growing up was told not to talk to strangers. I think it’s a valid rule made up by ever concerned parents considering the world we live in and the unspeakable horrors that unfortunately happen right in our neighbourhoods. But does that rule have to apply to us as we grow up too?
Let me put it this way. I love talking to strangers. I’ve been at the receiving end of the most wonderful, heartwarming, inspiring and memorable stories because of need in me to interact with the world. You could also call it my excuse just to talk. When I see so many people around me becoming more and more intent on preserving themselves for their online friends or with an ever shrinking circle of people as they’ve aged, I seem to have reached a point where I’m finding it difficult to effectively manage the increasing number of people I value. Some of them I’m sure will not be there in my life when I turn 40. And there are a few I’m certain I won’t lose even if I live to be a 100.
As I type this I’m recollecting a few interesting run ins I’ve had with strangers this very week. One involves a restroom at clubs where me along with 4 random girls become grief councillor’s to a girl who caught her boyfriend cheating. So much solidarity I tell you. The right things were said. The perfect t abuses hurled. And then there was this fashionably lovely girl at the mall who stood outside a changing room and helped me pick my birthday outfit (she really should take it up as a profession), a millennial while waiting in line at a waffle store who turned out to be a Bollywood gossip expert who got me to even install an app that she proclaimed was where you can find the “juiciest scoop”. And this girl on a date at the adjacent table on karaoke night with whom I locked eyes every time someone was butchering a classic and we needed someone to roll eyes with. She came over to my table and gave me a hug before she left.
But no story will replace my King in the North story. And that historic evening involved a table full of my friends and a bar full of strangers. EPIC!!
Wish there was a way to explain the way it smells. I’m tempted to say it smells like sunshine ☀
My orchids look so joyful as they sit by the window these days.
Birthdays usually leave me feeling overwhelmed and my heart brimming with a whole lot of gratitude and an understanding of the amount of love I have earned.
Wishing for year filled with love, luck, laughs (plenty hopefully), kisses, surprises, new learnings, enlightening and silly conversations, lots of money, tastebuds getting treated to brilliant lunches brunches and dinners along with pretty cocktails and heady liquors (but I sincerely wish that none of them show their lasting effects on the waist 🤞🏻).
Happiness is a desk full of gifts waiting for you when you get back from a meeting. My boys are the best. And in the spirit of honesty I’m strangely proud of the “Best Mum” coffee mug 🍷.
Everything from the hieroglyphs, the pharaohs, their relationship with the afterlife is endlessly fascinating. Ended up looking through my souvenirs acquired from a time when the Tutankhamun exhibit was opened in Fort Lauderdale in 2006 and I lamented for days that I would miss visiting by a couple of months.
Have spent the greater part of the day watching documentaries on ancient Egypt back to back. And as it always happens, I can’t help but remember a lovely sonnet by Percy Bysshe Shelly I had the privilege of studying as a part of my curriculum in college. Which incidentally, was published 200 years ago to date!!
I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
Wonder when I will get to visit the Valley of the Kings? The closest I’ve ever come to seeing a portion of the grandeur of this lost civilization, was at the Egyptian exhibit at The Louvre.
This one in particular is just too cute!!
Might just turn out to be the perfect excuse to do some weird stuff as the Blue Blood Moon rises in the sky tonight. Considering, that people have been claiming to be going moon-mad for eons.
Clicked on a colleagues xl 2 from the roof of my office building. Quite impressed with this phone.
It sure as hell is satisfying though 😏.