Its a known fact for people who are intimate with me that I am going through an inner churning right now.
Akka experiences my rantings against patriarchy and my plans to do something instead of sitting and fuming (videos, research and radio programmes) and she knows that lens of mine.
My dearest friend Ms. Bones (name changed to give her privacy) knows this plus the frustrations around a slow motion letting go of a dear team and we both smile or sigh together in this limbo always grateful to fall into an embrace.
My partner knows about all these plus the mood swings, anxiety attacks , fatigue fits I get into (which he bears from time to time) and many more.
I can see myself float around the minds of people in bits and pieces of opinions, images, funny lines, laughs, rages, insensitivities, love, compassion and hugs.
I am a throbbing mass of live cells who together carry around the tapestry of thoughts and memories – old and new.
The guessing game of who they are to me and what I am to them some times becomes depressing and can be exhilerating as well if one is open.
This openness is a tricky business, the 'me' always chooses how open with whom. My openness floats like a mosquitonet and depending on how much of it is needed, either it is open or it seems easy to open.
I am a stitched together tent of tiny opennesses. Stitched by images of you, them and me.
