CONVERSATIONS IN MY HEAD - DIARY SEVEN
"It's time for another trip", I excitedly blurted out. Ara looked at me, shook his head slightly and smiled. I knew that process too well. It said he was not ready to respond to me just yet. I ignored him and continued.
"I want to dig my bare feet in the soft, fine sand of the beach. Gather some shells and stand in the water as it washes over my feet. Free my hair and allow the breeze from the ocean blow it all over my face. I want to feel the adrenaline rush of running towards the ocean as it lifts itself, stretching forth to pull on my shirt." Ara laughed out loud this time. He almost fell of his seat.
"You're a hopeless romantic. Where do you get these ideas from?"
"I can't help it that my imagination travels far and wide, can I?"
"You direct your imagination, so, yes, you can help it."
I ignored Ara and continued to describe my dream holiday. "I would like one of those beaches with curved palm trees that I can climb, sit in and dangle my legs while I sip from a freshly split coconut. I would love to listen to the whispers of the palm fronds, eavesdropping on the most intimate secrets. I would love to watch the water, tracing its spread to that point the clouds come down to kiss it. That point of meeting of the terrestrial and the heavenly. I've always loved that knitting together, the blending of two powerful elements. The clouds being the tender, fragile, delicate party in the relationship and the ocean being the active, vocal and restless one."
"I really should come with you on this dream trip so you don't lose yourself observing." Ara interjected my thought.
"No way! I need that time alone for myself without your interruption. You're staying back." He laughed that laugh that said we both know there was nowhere I went that Ara didn't. I sighed. Whatever will I do with him?
"Which of the beaches do you have in mind?"
"Why do you ask?" I knew Ara well enough to know that he was not asking that question to proffer a solution to my dream trip. He probably wanted to get a kick out of my answer and laugh till his sides ached. I looked at him, a smile danced on the corner of his mouth, his eyes twinkled. He was up to some mischief, certainly. I decided to tell him. The worst reaction from him would be a hearty laughter, I could do with that.
"Zanzibar", I responded. Ara shocked me with what he said next.
"Who knows, your dream just might come to reality."
"I want to dig my bare feet in the soft, fine sand of the beach. Gather some shells and stand in the water as it washes over my feet. Free my hair and allow the breeze from the ocean blow it all over my face. I want to feel the adrenaline rush of running towards the ocean as it lifts itself, stretching forth to pull on my shirt." Ara laughed out loud this time. He almost fell of his seat.
"You're a hopeless romantic. Where do you get these ideas from?"
"I can't help it that my imagination travels far and wide, can I?"
"You direct your imagination, so, yes, you can help it."
I ignored Ara and continued to describe my dream holiday. "I would like one of those beaches with curved palm trees that I can climb, sit in and dangle my legs while I sip from a freshly split coconut. I would love to listen to the whispers of the palm fronds, eavesdropping on the most intimate secrets. I would love to watch the water, tracing its spread to that point the clouds come down to kiss it. That point of meeting of the terrestrial and the heavenly. I've always loved that knitting together, the blending of two powerful elements. The clouds being the tender, fragile, delicate party in the relationship and the ocean being the active, vocal and restless one."
"I really should come with you on this dream trip so you don't lose yourself observing." Ara interjected my thought.
"No way! I need that time alone for myself without your interruption. You're staying back." He laughed that laugh that said we both know there was nowhere I went that Ara didn't. I sighed. Whatever will I do with him?
"Which of the beaches do you have in mind?"
"Why do you ask?" I knew Ara well enough to know that he was not asking that question to proffer a solution to my dream trip. He probably wanted to get a kick out of my answer and laugh till his sides ached. I looked at him, a smile danced on the corner of his mouth, his eyes twinkled. He was up to some mischief, certainly. I decided to tell him. The worst reaction from him would be a hearty laughter, I could do with that.
"Zanzibar", I responded. Ara shocked me with what he said next.
"Who knows, your dream just might come to reality."
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