Of straws and twigs

I think I haven't blogged much lately: (a)I got lazy and was able to condense my thoughts into Facebook soundbytes and (b)I like blogs that are accompanied by photographs and I haven't transferred any to my computer lately because of sheer laziness...okay so both points are really the same, but like, yeah, whatever!

But I have aspirations to be a writer and isn't the purpose of being one to be able to communicate without illustrations and pretty pictures. For heaven's sake, I want to be a 'big-people's' writer as I used to refer to books without pictures when I was a kid. And if there is one thing big-people's writers don't need it's pictures. Yes, I am of the time when graphic novels were known by another name...comic books! Zing! And, if you're a graphic novel afficianado....yes, yes I know they're artistic visions or whatever. They're still comic books to me.

So today I lost my clothes drier and some other stuff. Well, not lost, but strangers came to my house, paid me a pittance and took away my things. Yes, I know I advertized for them to do so but it feels wrong.

This move feels a bit of a bereavement or a divorce or something. The washer sits forlornly disconnected from its water and electricity supply, wires dangling amputated, missing its constant companion. Soon the washer too will go to someone else's house and wash their clothes. Ewww!

Okay, it's not like I'm a freak (ok I am but not *that* kind of freak) attached to inanimate, electronic devices that beep and flash lights. It's that these things are my straws and twigs. You know the kind that birds gather to build their nests. As they say in Hindi, tinka, tinka lekar ghar banaya, and now it is being scattered. You've seen those birds search for the exact right length of twig, how they test the springiness or rigidity of a twig, discarding most, selecting a few, padding it with softness to make a home. And so did I. And so did we all, in our own ways, with our own likes and dislikes and styles.

Sure, most important are the living beings in my house and soon we will have another house and this one will become just a memory, but it is elemental, this hurt of seeing my bits of straw and twigs blowing away. It's not easy, this dismantling of a home. No one said it was easy but I don't remember it being quite this hard either.

....so this was my first moving post and I did it without any pictures.