Friday 21 March 2014

LET'S PRETEND!

Let’s pretend that I don’t have fever for the first time in over a year. Let’s pretend that I am really a magical creature with super powers and this tiredness and pain are my pretend body. The truth is I can fly, and talk to animals and this sofa is a ship and this moment of this year, round with possibilities, will never end.  


At the bottom of my nephew’s bed at the top of the stairs of a house in Singapore, my father scratched around and found Paddington. (PB to those in the know.) He examined the red duffel coat and blue felt hat. And then went to his room, to bed. I nipped downstairs for a last cup of tea. When I returned, PB was missing. Since the nephew has been ruthlessly evicted from his room by his Aunty Shai, and is keeping his parents awake in their room, there was only one suspect.

 ‘I’ve never had a soft toy,’ said the thief. ‘I think I’ll keep him...’


At the local library, Rafael borrowed a book called ‘Let’s Pretend’: a book which I find extremely peculiar. To be three years old, and be able to distinguish between pretending, imagining for real, and the real, seems to be a feat of extraordinary mental prowess. No wonder the little dude gets so exhausted by the end of every day. He traverses three worlds at all times – two more than we do. He is a leopard, prowling between table legs, claws and teeth at the ready. He is pretending to be a leopard, escaped from the zoo, but is also a hungry boy wanting chocolate and ice cream instead of invisible chunks of meat. He is not a leopard at all. He is only a little boy. And not really scary at all.

In my suitcase at this very moment is a leopard suit. It is awaiting his birthday, but so far, just the thought that there is a leopard in my suitcase, unseen, has satisfied his imagination. Will the suit delight or repulse him? I shall report.

Meanwhile the niece and her grandfather embark on convoluted conversations at breakfast and lunch, and call out to one another at the top of their lungs. Some things are wonderful just as they are. No pretending required.


Today is Navroze - Parsi New Year. Happy Navroze to all of you, and may the rain rain, or the sun shine, according to your needs...

Saturday 1 March 2014

WINTER, SPRING AND SUMMER THINGS

In the middle of February, I walked through the village, taking a path I've travelled many times, but seeing the new. I think that might be one of my favourite things about life. Finding the seemingly new in the old or familiar. It was an unexpectedly sunny morning, and something shone silver on my left. It looked like a silver foil horse. I crossed the road, and discovered a horse I had never seen before in a field of snowdrops I had never noticed before.
 He was behind bars, which might account for it. He is the Hanover Horse…
I've no idea why he lives there or who planted him there, but this is his view for a few weeks in February…
Further on, I stopped to greet my precious friend Victoria, who just happened to be outside her front door on her way out to her sewing class. "Come quickly and see my snowdrops and daffodils!" she tempted, so I did…
And later, walking with Angelina and the twins, I looked up and saw this…
All that remained was something of summer, and the phone box provided me with that…
Is there anything more summery than cricket? Well, not for my father anyway…
And the last of the lovely things is this… my Masters dissertation, comb bound and handed in!