two days

of gazing out on an unending vista of green paddyfields unbroken except for narrow red and brown paths snaking through and pot-headed scarecrows; of pigs and cows and chicken and goats; of huts and sheds and gardens and ponds; of asbestos roofs blazing in the mid-day sun as emaciated figures go about living; of lorries on a highway rushing past like roaring giants; of a skyline of trees straining to reach the heavens; of blurring horizons; of exquisite sunsets of purple and pink; of long walks in the dark holding a child's hand; of flashing a torch to ward off unwary snakes; of picking out prickly chor-kaanta clinging to clothes; of local trains and crowds hanging on for dear life; of clouds that threaten but never quite burst; of fireflies flitting through a house plunged into sudden darkness; of mosquito bites and meshed windows; of crickets that creak and crawl over clothes; of fresh fruits galore; of bathing in water cold from a hand-pump; of playing the "cool aunt"; of pointless chatter and meaningless smiles; of leisure and laziness; of time that does not pass; of ceaseless slumber and fitful dreams; of a mind unthinking, unblank; of being forced to stay under the same roof with the creator of one of the most awful of childhood memories; of revisiting; of pretending; of being lost in inexpressible grief.

i'm back.