Promising to Smile

From being a horizontal thread or path that one followed or traversed, time in that year suddenly became vertical, to be ascended like a ladder into the sky with each step or happening following quickly on the other.
-To the Is-Land, Janet Frame-

For quite some time, life felt a bit like this.

I miss my grandfather. But not without feeling grateful for his long life.

I miss my uncle deeply. It seems strange that I won’t be sitting in his room chatting with him in an unfettered manner (for he was one of the least judgmental people I knew, one of few people with whom I have felt complete ease), while he rearranges his numerous papers and constantly adjusts his scared thread. My uncle was even tempered, rarely took offence at anything and was always ready with a light hearted take on all matters. But he was also odd, brilliant and evasive, given to addictions that caused numerous outbursts in his immediate family. Yet I don’t think it made much difference to his nephews and nieces who simply accepted him as he was and were sometimes a little delighted in having an uncle who had strayed from known paths (his wild youth could always be mined for outrageous stories). He had a fine voice in his youth; one of his favourite songs was “गीत गाता हूँ मैं” and he would half-jest that it was a song that completely captured his state of mind, especially the line "I once made a promise to laugh, so I always laugh". I think of that as my uncle’s legacy-that in spite of the cruelty of what happened, in spite of the inevitable sadness, we can still summon up a smile for him. So this one is for you, RM.

This year I wasn't prolific but did make a few cards for friends and family. One I quite liked went to a favourite former student who is now quite a grown person, to prove which she took me out for a swank dinner when we last met. It is made of rather tiny pressed flowers and leaves that tumbled out of an old address book and a bit of ragged stitching holding together card remnants (pic below).

The flowers behind are the Golden Myrtle. Though the green and gold emblematic of this country is principally due to the wattle, every other season boasts yellow blossoms. Ordinary and ubiquitous as it is, the fierce summer blooming of the myrtle has resulted in a fine show in the lanes around my house.

Golden Myrtle

Not long back I spoke to a cousin who more than the rest of us faced a particularly steep, vertical ladder in the past two years. She said she felt neutral, neither happy nor sad. Horizontal, neutral, ordinary, tiny  – they all seem mighty fine and attractive words to have in one's life.