BREXIT: WAKING UP TO A DIFFERENT WORLD

Picture Credit: The Guardian

I followed the EU Referendum numbers till 3 am last night, right up to the point I spent more time accidentally dozing off than refreshing the CNN counter page. 

When I went to bed, it was 51% to #Bremain. When I went to bed, I was still living in the EU. 

When I woke up this morning, I woke up in another world. I was in Britain. Britain chose #Brexit. 

I am still in shock and have this inexplicable storm in my heart that makes it really hard to be productive about anything today. The right words don't really come easily.

Right now, this is all I can muster:

As much as some are celebrating Brexit on the streets now, it's entirely ironic that they don't realize that when the time comes for divorce proceedings, it won't be Britain's politicians or any of the Brexiters who will rule the roost on any separation terms. It will be the other 27 nations of the EU who will call the shots and serve it up good, take-it-or-leave-it style. It's probably only then when some of these short-sighted Brexiters will realize it was always as much about opportunities for Brits in the rest of the EU as it was about keeping other people off British soil.

And judging by the number of non-British friends I have celebrating the 30-year low of the Pound Sterling by indulging in some massive shopping sprees, I think the economic implications speak for themselves. You'll rejoice if you aren't living in the UK. You won't be if you are. It's that simple.

Baby boomers who cast the die for a generation that never wanted this to happen, there is only this to say: Judging by those same economic implications and a violent truncation of opportunities for the next generation, they no longer can say to us: "You have it good."

But most of all, it is getting harder to call a country we now happen to be living in Home.

ME AND THE BRITISH SUMMER

The British summer officially started two days ago, but as is typical of all British summers, I've only been feeling it in short spurts. 

The sun does come out a little more frequently than it usually cares to, but the interspersed bouts of persistently passive aggressive showers and winds, and general assembling of ominous dark clouds don't quite qualify it as a real attempt at summertime weather. And they claim we have 93 days of summer in Britain. Sure couldn't ever tell.

Most people are right when they say London's weather is anything but straightforward. It's almost an art trying to figure it out, let alone decide what to wear. (In my experience, one should always, always have at least a light jacket or compact spring coat at hand, no matter how deep into 'Summer' they say we are)

I tend to get a bit too descriptive about the weather these days - sure sign of becoming a little more Brit. I always talk about the weather.

On to my main point today: I've always thought there must be a link between one's moods and the way the weather swings. The uncertainty of the British summertime sure mirrors my current state of mind. 

HELLO STRANGER: A WOMAN IN ANOTHER PLACE

Don't you think we learn something from every single person we meet?

This chance meeting with not one, but four people, who remain strangers to me today, happened at the Duomo in Florence, Italy, just a few weeks ago. It taught me so much. 

It taught me that circumstances beyond what we can control can render principles we are so confident in completely irrelevant. It taught me that sadly, helplessness can be the product of birth and upbringing. Most of all, it taught me to be grateful to have been raised the way I was raised. I lucked out. Not everyone does.

~~

We had been standing in line to climb up the Duomo for about 15 minutes when the shouting started. 

The father, heavy-set, with a thick mustache framing puffy, creased cheeks, flailed his arms for dramatic effect, shook his fist in his wife's face and clapped emphatically a few times. The claps came in between every word each time he tried to summarize a particular tirade.

"You. Are. Selfish. Next. Time. Listen."

HELLO STRANGER: HOW'D YOU LIKE TO BE LOVED?

Don't you think we learn something from every single person we meet? 

It's always fascinated me how we can sometimes meet a person only once in our lives and yet go away clutching a poignant lesson or truism close to our hearts. Other times, a first meeting touches us only on the surface and leaves little else. Yet more people we meet go on to become our friends. But first meetings where strangers no longer are strangers will always be fascinating to me. I pen these thoughts down sometimes, because I want to remember. 

This is something I wrote after meeting J, a successful career woman with stilettos quite unnecessary for someone as statuesque as her. She taught me something about love. 

~~

Picture credits: Scarlet Scribe

Taking a long drag of her slims, she shakes a few strands of purple-tinged hair away from her right eye, "My dear, you need someone who loves you more than you can ever love him. It's the only way to survive."

10 MONTHS OF SILENCE

Lanikai Beach, Oahu, Hawaii

So I went and let another 10 months go without writing a single word in this space. (Wish I had a cooler reason for this other than: predictable behavior) 

It's not like nothing has happened in all this time. Au contraire, a great deal has actually taken place since I last wrote. Lots of changes, a couple of adventures, slightly more traveling and well, I'm still me. 

So, changes. I left my job at the start of the year. This was simultaneously the bravest and also the craziest thing I've ever done. Letting go of a steady paycheck to chase something I had wanted to do for a long time - yoga teacher training.  

I packed my bags, said a teary goodbye to the husband, and checked myself in for a full-month's training in Hawaii. 5am to 11pm every day. This experience pushed me - boot camp style - to new physical, emotional and mental heights I never knew I could reach. It was hard. It will always rank as one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life.

But it was incredible. I finally had time to just be me and do the things I wanted to do without a care in the world. Okay, I still cared about daily FaceTime sessions with the husband. But you know what I'm talking about - I didn't have to bother about expectations and responsibilities for once. It was like a bubble my yoga classmates and I lived in for a month. The hardest decision we had to make was whether we would go for the 6am or 8.45am class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Everything else ran like clockwork against the schedule. We were so insulated from the rest of the world and the baggage it brings with it. All we had to do was yoga. 

HELLO STRANGER

Don't you think we learn something from every single person we meet?

It's always fascinated me how we can sometimes meet a person only once in our lives and yet go away clutching a poignant lesson or truism close to our hearts. Other times, a first meeting touches us only on the surface and leaves little else. Yet more people we meet go on to become our friends. But first meetings where strangers no longer are strangers will always be fascinating to me. I pen these thoughts down sometimes, because I want to remember.

Read the Hello Stranger series:

How'd You Like To Be Loved?
A Woman In Another Place

ACHTUNG AUGUST

Wow. It's been nearly a month since I last wrote anything here. Time just whizzes by so quickly I sometimes forget just how long it's been since I sat down properly to collect my thoughts, to be still, and to write. 

We've been in London more than three months now.