Photo: A lady blowing bubbles for her children at the annual Ganesh Chaturthi Festival in Mumbai, India 2009.
Lately, I've been hurtling across oceans from one country to the next,one time zone after another. I'm starting to believe that motion is what keeps me alive.
But coming home, always meant calming down. Emptying my pockets, I'd pull out a handful of boarding passes, crushed-up receipts and a pen or two bearing the name of the last hotels I stayed at. I've come home to a cold apartment, a pile of bills and an empty fridge. Going to the grocery store, I'd weave thru traffic--frantically look for a parking spot--only to realize that I'm in no real hurry. Pushing my cart from aisle to aisle, I'd pay attention to labels, aisle numbers and bar-code scanners--totally forgetting what I came to shop for. I'd see children pick through cereal boxes, old men looking for denture adhesive, and little ladies in hair nets serve cheese behind carefully polished glass counters.
An array of shopping carts passed me by as I stood at a crossroad between three aisles. Holding up traffic, I felt the need to move--so left I turned. Ladies tampons and baby diapers flooded my peripheral vision.
Carefully exiting my lane, I looked left, then right, merged into on-coming traffic and smiled gently at the lady coming my way. She smiled back. Our eyes made contact as our carts nearly touched--but quickly, I pulled an evasive maneuver, steered left and found myself careening off the side-rails guarding rows and rows of freshly placed produce. A gentle breeze whisked the back of my neck. Cool mist blew graciously over fresh fruit. Feelin' good at the move I'd just made, I fired a pistol salute towards an old geezer smilin' at me.
Aisle after aisle, I traveled the path most shopped. Looking at my watch, I noticed two hours had passed. Glancing down at my cart, a mere bag of chips and two bottles of water filled its void. Damn...I need to stop cruisin' and start shoppin'. Maybe motion was all I came for.
Five days until next departure...