Days

To put this life into words seems easy. When you sit down to do it you cant remember why you sat down to write about it at first. 

You dont remember the day you were brought into the world. Yet everyone around you does. They laugh and scream and want a piece of you. You're never actually a part of it. 

And nobody will remember your last day except you. They'll mourn and cry. But they'll never be a part of it.

 Its messed up, isn't it?

The day your life starts you dont know, and the day it ends nobody else knows.

Pakorey.

Its been raining every hour since the past two days. I see it from the tall windows right across the room from my throne in the library. 

Security guards see me walk in early in the morning and new ones see me leave late at night. I dont even think they wonder about the timings. Everyones living at the library. They know the drill.


I take a break, i hang out with new people everyday, i wait for my brain to wake up, i smoke, grab a french vanilla from timmys on campus if it isnt too late.

And then I crave.

All i need now is chai with pakoras. And if my stars are aligned right may be my mom would bring jalebis and samosas on her way home.

But i forget.

Trois ans de plus de la torture dans les régions glacées du nord de l'Amérique.

Sigh.

Snow in Disguise

Ive been borrowing one book from the library all of the past month. Its the only one that NO bookstore in Montreal has. Its a Canadian Edition, and you know how they roll. (I actually dont know what their deal is man. Like seriously.)


So i wake up, go to the library, stay there for an hour, eat on campus, issue it and study. Until 3. When a loophole lets me keep a course reserve till 11 am next morning. So i issue it at 3 and go home. And i rush to campus at 11 am and repeat.


Yesterday, i couldn't. I checked back since the moment it was due back till the borrowing closed. The person who had borrowed probably payed some crazy ass fine on that book now. But i simply could not get the book. And there has never been a day where i couldnt borrow this book. 


And then from 2.44 to 7.16 am, I witnessed my first snowfall. 


I ran out in my flip-flops and pajamas. I welcomed winter with uncovered arms and feet. And the smile on my face, when those tiny flecks metled on my skin, was the only warmth i had. But it was enough. Enough to pull me through the minus 8 of Montreal snowy night. 


God didnt want me studying and sleeping early so i could return my book because he wanted me to see the first snow fall of my life.


He works in mysterious ways. Ones that never fail to amaze me.

Strange

So this space has been neglected since a few months.. The guilt does come up at times when i read other blogs but then I quickly log off so that the urge to write about two months of my life goes away. But i think the whole caught up in a new country and in a city that only predominantly communicates in French and then getting here a month late with midterms is a valid excuse to be away. 


Not justifying leaving my baby here. But you get what im saying right? 


Its been tough. The cold, the newness and then the readings. I miss home. I miss the system and most of all.. I miss the dependency. Its just so unnerving to like not being able to call the car when my class gets done..


Actually, what am i saying? 


I love it. 


What i love the most is the fact that i can actually be who i want to be and whenever i want to be. College is a funny place. Nobody looks at what you're wearing, whether you've had time to brush your hair before class or what music is blasting from your headphone to or how tall your coffee mug is when your face clearly shows no sleep for days. 


I can wear my flashy wayfarers and t-shirts with bands i dont even listen and to be a hipster one day or i can boot-up and catwalk my way into class or on some early days just sneak into class quietly with my pajamas. 


And trust me, its actually relieving to know that nobody would stare. 


Montreals my home now. Whether it be minus 30 or sunny like it was today. Although i cant wait to go back. This feels like mine. 


Ive missed you, bloggy. I'll be back soon. 
A LOT NEEDS TO BE TOLD TO YOU.


Love
Anam