came home knackered .. my body like a few trains had run over it…my posture a broken tree, having done groceries in the humid rain. fortunately the dregs from last week’s soup filled a small bowl to take to bed with saveur magazine at six in the evening … and its sentences like tiny ants eat away at what i see and they swallow whole sentience like a python, to afternoon/evening sleep like oxygen for fire.
up at 9.30p.m. to notice a roomful of piles of old clothes who I have just dropped over days on end rushing out in the morning like a lemming to fall into subway. and here i am wide awake and widely dopey. at lose ends with piles of dishes to put away and wash and papers to read and leave unread and slough off the week and it’s annoyances.
and those little people in bottles that hide neglected in the cupboard keep calling me like atavistic friends. i look and see my greek oregano jar is not closed properly ..closed ajar literally. worried for all the perfume of barren greek mountain taste lost I tighten it right guarding it from taste poverty and then another bottle calls out crying to me asking me to reach for it. like a little child.
and i take its familiar round shape in my palm and hold it tight. grab the cover with my left hand and open it. to sniff perungkayang. i breathe deep for the first time in weeks and my heart. bursts. and bjork turns up on see bee sea.
and slowly i feel human again in dribs and drabs. yes. bjork, dishes, musty clothes and perungkayang. there’s nothing else. i am home for a few days.
– renu on a late late may night.