Hello, beautiful!
I sat down to write this week's memo looking for the one moment that would explain all the others or that one central idea I’d want to share and after fighting that for a bit, I gave up and stopped pretending I had one. I'm at my parents' place in India this week, and my head has several completely unrelated thoughts running at once with zero interest in talking to each other. So instead of forcing a theme, here's the actual list.
Home but not home. Comfortable and unfamiliar in the exact same breath, familiar in every way except the one that actually counts. I've written about ‘home’ before. It doesn't get less true with repeating it.
I messaged a school friend I hadn't properly spoken to in over fifteen years, on a whim, from my parents' couch, and sat there for a full minute before hitting send. He replied within the hour. We spent an entire afternoon together like someone had paused us fifteen years ago and pressed play again. I'd assumed naturally we'd drifted (that's what so many years is supposed to do), but it turned out we'd only ever been floating in each other's Instagram orbit, a like here, a story view there, proof of life without any real contact. I'd mistaken that thin orbit for actual distance. Thankfully, there was none :)
A friend in Dubai told me to disconnect this trip. I realised, mid-conversation, that I genuinely can't, not properly at least, unless I'm somewhere with no signal at all like a mountain or a beach with nothing but pina coladas on it. I used to think that was a flaw (it might still be one, I've just stopped apologising for it).
I'm definitely more creative than an artist, and completely fascinated by people who are the real thing. Stood in a gallery yesterday wondering, seriously, whether writing counts as art or whether it's just craft with good intentions attached to it. I don't have an answer and I'm not sure I need one.
Indian indie dogs are the calmest and most beautiful dogs I encounter anywhere. Period.
My skincare routine here is an evening walk in 90% humidity. Level glow max with sweat mega max.
August is a genuinely bad month for this business. Every single year. I don't know why I'm still mildly surprised by it.
My parents and I got into a proper conversation about the idea that the key to your happiness lies only with you, that no one else can hand it to you or take it away. Profound stuff between the very silly jokes.
Happy birthday, mom!
The green here, actual lushness, the kind Dubai will simply never produce (but never say never), is something I love and notice every time I step off a plane away from the desert.
Ten unrelated things, one week, no lesson or rhyme or reason tying them together. I mean, some weeks don't have a lesson; they just have a very random Monday list.
M.
M’s Currents
A small thing I loved this week: no structure or theme, just sharing some favourites.
Books: I'm reading The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay and I've used the dictionary feature on my Kindle more this month than the rest of the year combined. Entertained AND more educated!
xx
Manuja
Not for everyone. Never was.
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