Naked

After my mother passed away we found out that she used to write, for few years, her diary. It came as a surprise because she was not known for her interest in that form of self expression, but when I think of it now I find it normal for an introvert person like her, and me, to find solace in turning feelings and ideas into written words than spoken ones.

My sisters found it interesting to read what she wrote about our late father and about us. I also feel the temptation to read the diary but I am not comfortable with the idea. It is like breaking her privacy. If she liked us to read it in her life, she could have let us do or at least know about it, but now we can never know if she liked or disliked us to read her diary.

For many years I also kept a diary. I do not think I would like a family member to read it, not because there is specifically anything that I do not want them to read, but simply it is like being seen naked by a family member, nothing wrong with it but it creates an awkward atmosphere. More awkward than being seen naked by a stranger. Revealing, the body or the soul, is usually easier in front of the strangers.

According to my sisters, one small part of the diary contained advices given to us. This was obviously meant to be read by us, but I think when she talked about her relation with our father or her feelings towards certain events along the relevant years better be kept for grandsons and granddaughters or great grandsons and daughters in the future to read. They will be by then strangers, total strangers no problem getting naked in their company.

July and August in all their glory

Home, sweet old tired home.
Family and friends' faces reflecting how old I grew.
Dusty carton boxes filled with photos, books and rusty memories.
Ground zero of my cradle.
The joy and suffering of searching for a new house.
A forcing fake sigh whenever I say: Yes, I was homesick.
Taste is a sort of fate I can never run away from.
Oceans of gaps.
Easily discarding what I always thought undiscardable.
Hypnotized and thinking unhypnotizable.
Everybody is asking why I lost weight although the scales don't show an ounce of weight loss.
The passing away of my favourit and terribly underestimated poet.
Surprising inability to forgive.
First time to witness the entire cycle of Karma.