a journey in chalk

somedays back, my friend at http://thisisthatsetup.blogspot.com/ wrote a post on blackboards at home.

and i realised how special mine was. the last time i wrote on it was when MIAMA when to everest base camp. During one of our telephone calls, he on his way up, me in our kitchen in Mumbai, he told me his whole schedule. Now that he was in the mountains, and had climbed for two days, he had a fair idea of his speed, his strength and which day he would be where.

Of course every conversation was filled with this urgency. We never knew if the cell would work in the next village, and this would probably be our last conversation for days.

Years of knowing we would see each other at home, or if we were travelling, just call whenever the fancy struck, and we had forgotten what it felt like not to be able to talk.

To look out of the window at night, look at the stars and think of him looking at them. To stop in the middle of a crazy day, and wonder where he was. To hope he was eating okay, sleeping fine, breathing good. Not worry, but just think about him from time to time. It was nice.

And his whole schedule, I chalked up on the blackboard as he spoke to me. In the morning, when I'd make tea for myself, I would stare at it, and smile.

Anyway, it stayed, even after he came back. And the list of strange sounding nepali names on a blackboard made me happy. Because in some way they had brought us closer.

Here's a picture of my blackboard. The names are gone. The feeling hasn't. : )