Navratri and sweet proposals (AEN)

October 19, 2015

It happened.

He did not see it coming, that this girl would shake his world. Shake it harder than those Indian barefoot complicated steps. She was dancing among the crowd, just as another Indian girl in that Navratri night. 

But she was not Indian. Not at all. 

And, as she hugged an African fellow, he realized, she can't possibly be an Indian. Indian girls don't show much her emotions, it is part of their culture not to display affection in public. Latin American girls are possibly the closest opposite to this. They cry, laugh, hug, kiss, dance, cry more, laugh again... There is something about Latin American people in general: due to his international experience, he had confirmed that regardless of gender, these peculiar beings were always the most easy going, extroverted, and loud specimen of humanity. The fact that he came from Eastern Europe made it even more obvious. 

Anyways, going back to latino girl, she kept dancing. She was doing great: no shoes, long skirt, lovely hair, cute steps.

-Who are you looking at? Agustin asked him. 

But Aleks didn't say anything. He just stared. Agustin looked in the direction he was looking at. 

-Are you checking out that blonde? 

-No. The brunette, in pink skirt. 

-The one that just fell down?!

This was my second Navratri night. What's Navratri? It is a Gujarati festival in India, where people dance nine days in a role to praise the nine forms of Shakri/Devi. Sounds very poetic; however, now it is also an excuse to hang out with friends until late night, show more skin than it is usually well seen by society, and all in all have an amazing night, even in week days. For me? Well... I took it as an opportunity to learn more about Indian culture and to dance, even teach some steps! Nothing classy, just the full version of Macarena, which, for instance, I don't even like! Whatever, in Asia, even that mechanical dance has become an exotic treat for me! 

And well... as usual, it happened: I fell down in the middle of the circle... 

Despite of her terribly fall, she was laughing herself out. I couldn't help it, I had to go and meet her. This seemed as the perfect excuse. I confess that I am usually a very reserved person and quite clumsy with girls, but India had given me some unexpected confidence. When most people look at you and think that you are handsome, just because you are different, you start to believe that it is true after some time. I am positive that when I am back to my hometown people wont even notice me among the crowd; but in India, getting lost among the population is practically impossible for someone like me. 

And he was almost there, extending his hand, when his way was blocked by an Indian who helped his mistress in need. She stood up, laughing, fixing her outfit. That was the moment when things would collapse for both expats... 

I naturally felt quite stupid, falling down as an idiot, while trying to make a fancy step. That is the problem when one gets clothes borrowed, they don't quite fit as expected. Being an expat, I didn't have proper traditional Navratri outfits, so I asked my friends for some clothes. In this specific case, the skirt was too long and consequently I finally ended up stepping on it, rest is old story. These things always happen to me! I guess I have to accept that I am a little cartoon character: small, funny, hilarious, and dramatic. But I was not feeling miserable at all, shit happens, all the time. Why feel bad about it?

Story of my life, I never get to impress a girl. Now, shall I just turn around and go back to my dancing circle, or...?

-Are you ok?

-Hmm... Yes. 

Where did he come from? Is he really talking to me?

Great! I talked to her... Now what should I say? Perhaps just...

-I'm Aleksander. 

-Lucia. Nice to meet you. 

Awkward moment, silence. 

-Have you been here for a long time? He finally said. 

-Well... enough to get all the typical Indian ups and downs. Three months. 

-Me too! How calm I had never seen you before?

-I was trapped in this sort of small village, working in a project. Although it was truly inspiring.

-Sounds more interesting than my story... 

-Are you opening some market in Europe for some Indian company?

-How do you know that?

-I told you I had been here enough time... Most of my friends are doing these kind of jobs, or helping an NGO. 

-No, how do you know that I am from Europe?

-Let's just say that I have a gift!

And she laugh. He smiled, it had been quite a long time since he had not heard a laughter like hers, loud, contagious, and sincere. 

I like this girl. 

-So, Aleksander, I think that we are in the way of dancers... 

-Oh, right! I didn't notice, sorry. 

-Wait, don't move out it, dance with me. 

-I am not a great dancer. 

-Me neither. 

-I saw you dancing, you were great, even while you fell. 

-Ha ha ha, very funny.

-It's true! 

-Ok, then I will teach you. 

-Really?

-Yeah, why not?

-Well, but only if you let me get you a Thumbs Up afterwards.

-Oh, proposing already? 

-But it is a sweet proposal, isn't it?

Well... I was not that bad at flirting after all. Ok, I will confess, this trick was thought by my Indian neighbor, although I had never tried it before. 

-Do you say this to all girls you meet?

Maybe it wont work after all...

-No, this is actually the first time. Don't look at me like that! This is really the first time!

-Ok, Thumbs Up it is! She said as she made herself a thumbs up sign with both hands. 

Awesome, it worked! 

He also thumbs up his fingers, just before he got hit by an Indian dancer. 

-Are you ok? ha ha ha! Maybe the proposal is not that sweet after all! Come, dance, we can start with Macarena. 

And both expats danced until their legs allowed them to. Well, I am sure they could have danced more, but as every hour passed by, their need to go out and talk grew a little more. 

-Ready for Thumbs up?

She just thumbs up her fingers, and smiled in the cutest way he had ever seen. 

And that was the end of life as both of them knew it. 

Lovely fall desires (AEN)

I want to fall in love again.
Free fall, no parachute, no net.

To feel that brief eternal instant of perfect imperfection,
of naive and pure faith,
of insane unstoppable happiness,
when you smile like an idiot because nothing else is bigger than that...
not a problem at work,
not a terrible miserable cold,
not your lack of sleep, because you can't get him out of your head.

I want to fall in love again.
Deeply and slowly, softly and gently.

To wake up with a silly smile on my face,
because he just texted, because he is smiling involuntarily too..
he is a cute lucky bastard who found love again,
just as you.
When every kiss is as good as the first one,
when holding hands becomes a delicate dance,
when dressing up is read as an art, just to impress him once more,
to get that look that makes you blush.

I want to fall in love again.
This time forever, this time for real.

To see the world through his eyes and feel it spin at our pace,
to share my dreams, to build a future,
to understand what lead characters in chick flicks portrait,
to remember how I felt when I was in high school, in college...
When I used to fall in love, or at least that is what I thought.

I want to fall in love again.
I do. 

Of aliens and planets... (AEN)

Time is inexistent for love, even distance is. 

As if these inexplicable human connections were as strong as steel, as immense as the universe, as deep as the core of the planet. 

Despite the fact that she had not seen him in months, she still woke up everyday with the sound of his laughter, and went to bed with the tears of his absence. 

She lingered for his stories and those secret moments of silence, where his eyes became two set of mysterious planets, yet to be unveiled, yet to be explored. And she had wondered in many other orbits, before and after him...

That night she watched a romantic film with her mother. While walking upstairs, to her room, her mom asked her if the movie reminded her of him. Lucia said no. And it was not a lie, truth is that she did not need a movie to have him in her mind. He was always there, continuously, as her heartbeat, as her breathing. 

She had felt like that many times. She had gotten lost in different sets of planets, some rocky, some gassy, some big, some small... It always hurt to let go, to move on, to continue in this trip of life, searching for a home planet to settle. 

However, this was different. 

This time it did not seem as a holiday trip. It felt as real home, real love. She found her planet and yet she was an alien. 

This whole real love situation was somehow more complicated than she thought. She did try to runaway, more than once. Landed in couple more planets, swam in new waters, breathed different atmospheres. Useless. How can she try to deny what was so obvious?

Why did she start to deny it anyway? And why was she an alien in that warm loved land?

Simple.

He gave up on her. 

As time passed by, his eyes did not meet hers as before. 

He changed. 

As all planets in the universe... he eventually cooled down. Evolved. Forgot. 

His orbit somehow changed course, and Lucia was trapped in an emotional wormhole, between past and present, totally uncertain about her future. 

Alien. All that she was, all that she felt. 

Alien. All that he saw, all that was left. 

Letter to an unknown reader

27.08.2015

And then...

I realized how life happened. All this time, bothering for things that matter but didn’t matter at the same time. We only have today, this second, this instant. Earthquakes happen, floods, bombs, wars, tse tse flies, and even the unexpected heart attack, cancer, transit accidents... who knows? Will we be here tomorrow? Think about it.

I am a lucky bastard who has stepped her feet in over 30 countries and didn’t even realized it. All the amazing people I have met, angels and demons, both part of my growth and change of perspectives. I feel somehow old... Still, I linger a little before accepting that adulthood is eminent. Just a month back, I was walking through Budapest streets along teenagers, sharing their fears of college and admissions, laughing, drinking, dancing. I felt young, remembered my college years... And my brother, my best pal. We’ve seen so many things... Laugh, cried, fought, and laugh again. I guess he is one of the only “cursed” human beings who have seen me in any possible way: exhausted, hectic, overwhelmed, crazy, insane, furious, grateful, serious, in love, in lust... I admire him so much, he has already superseded me. If I never have kids, at least I know I got my chance of leaving a part of me behind... And he makes me proud, everyday. 

Why am I writing this?

I guess I got a revealing moment and I wanted to humbly share it with you, accountancies, friends, family, lovers... For the past two years I’ve been wondering around, looking for the purpose of my life and well, I might be too young still to say that I’ve found it, but here it is: Love. 

Cliche? No... not really. 

For those who know me, I was a book worm/nerd, who won all possible awards at high school and college. Yeah... it felt nice, for a while. I’ve lived in three continents. That also felt good, for a while. I’ve worked as an editor, writer, filmmaker, corporate branding advisor... kind of an interesting blend of passions. Still... not enough. Yes, some may think that I am forgetting to mention God. Well, you are right! He has been here, with me, all this time, even when I’ve forgotten him. And I just had a small chat with him couple minutes ago, I told him: Man, you rock! How calm you managed to put me in this nice flat, in the middle of India, with an amazing Russian girl?! I mean, even the smallest detail as having a table big enough to fit my multiple working tools (laptop, hard drive, mouse, glass of scotch...Yes, scotch is an old habit I inherited from a former and dear lover) all inside an AC room?! Gosh, believe me, don’t take for granted a nice 20 degree temperature!

And, you know... that is when I though: little things are what make the big things. Little fragments of love, spread through our life. We forget this so many times. 

All my love memories are really small details: a breeze in a bridge; a sip of Polish vodka with old pals; climbing a German mountain along a daring Russian girl; my broken and worn out sneakers; having a caramel macchiato with my beloved Indian girlfriend while staring at a beautiful American sunset; my sweet Belgian friend cooking dinner for us and then worried about it been too salty when it was perfectly fine!; sharing a bed with a spirited Brazilian roommate, she though me so much; popping up champaign in the Danube with my brother, while staring at the Hungarian Parliament; remembering that I am animal person while exploring Dallas Aquarium with the sweetest American I’ve ever met; looking for some weird dutch snack with my Hungarian brother; meeting again a truly cheerful Mexican pal in order to remember and toast for our past African lives; sharing a romantic true love story with a dear Polish friend and her future German husband; driving all the way to Cataratas by car for 12 hours in a row with my beloved Argentinian soulmate... 

Shouting some Indian phrase along my Brazilian brother... Moria!

Kissing the man who changed my life during the most beautiful sunrise I got to capture with my camera... 

Teaching spanish to Nigerian children, whom I remember as my own family.
Sharing my craziness with a dear neighbor, who re-appeared in my life just when I needed a good friend.

My dad giving me advice while we looked for my brother, who appeared until one in the morning! Showing my Mexican city to an Indian that I just met but became a great friend; having an Italian dinner in the middle of London with a lovely couple of friends; assisting a pal who has had a very “happy” brithday!; sharing a glass of scotch while feeling the Parlemitan breeze with my uncle, preparing a dance with my cousins, listening to the passion of truly Italian guide (who happened to be my aunt!); sharing the smell of coffee and newspapers with talented journalists, in the middle of where news are generated; having chai with a friend in the middle of the road; sharing my passion for photography with a sexy Thai girl; hugging a Spanish sister whom I saw grow and change, transformed by her honest love for an Asian country;  inviting a fellow Mexican girl to join last minute to a weekend crazy Indian trip; running to catch a bus, a train, a plain, a boat! Sharing insights of life, God, and philosophy with an inspiring woman, while driving around my beloved country in Holy Week; having a broken conversation in English and Gujarati with a Shreyas girl, laughing my ass out with a great guy that many called David Bhai... 

My grandmother’s messages everyday, asking about a picture I posted; my best friend’s name in the credits of a film; my thesis brother performing proudly on stage, following his dream...

My mom telling me that she loves me... My sister... a friend I feel I lost and somehow will manage to get back. I miss her. 

So many others... so many more... Sorry that I can’t mention all... but you know that I carry you in my heart, you are a part of me now.

Small lives, coming together, in a brief moment that faith gave us, an instant in which we got the chance to share again the same geography in order to remember who we were a year back or a day before, how we changed, how we moved on or not. And we coexist, become the same energy, and then flow again...

And I admire them, how brave they are, each in their own way. I am grateful for having met them, for having seen them again, for all their love and warm welcomes. I hope I can pay them back for all this love, wherever I am, whenever I see you again.

I was crying, thinking of someone whom I lost. Then, I realized that he will stay with me, always in my heart. He never left in a way. But we need to let go to move on. The Earth is still spinning... 

Letting go. Short words against their deep meaning. 

I used to say that I didn’t belong anywhere. Now I understand that I belong to the world itself. It is a truly overwhelming thought. I am nothing against the universe, but at least I got this chance to exist. A small, pinky, childish, unstable but bright spark... I hope that I get the opportunity to light someone’s heart; to make a little difference while sharing my life with others. 

At the end, I believe that whoever He is, this amazing kick-ass Creator, I must thank him for the incredible life He has given to me. Thank you, Lord.  

Now I feel I must give back, must find what I am supposed to do for Him. And all of you, reading this, I want to thank you for sticking around. Whoever you are, you have impacted my existence and I am grateful to you. Don’t hesitate to drop by, at least an inbox, I will be glad and honored to hear from you. 

So... after all this random writing, I just can say: people, live! And don’t be afraid of following your craziest dreams, for they are possible. Don’t be afraid to think different. Don’t be hesitant to jump free fall. We only get one chance to breath this oxygen... our existence is so brief. I can’t believe I am 28 years already... it doesn’t feel as I though it would feel. All these years have gone by as a blink, but I think I made each one count!

And you may not get all what you want, but I promise you that in exchange you will get better things, you will get what you need, what you are ready to receive. Just look around and see... the world is so fucking beautiful! (Don’t mind my language, please!)

Talk to strangers, smile, laugh, pray, and look at the sky. 

Have you ever seen how clouds move? 

Thank you.

With love,

Laura

Prayer for a faceless lover (AEN English)

May 25, 2018

Have you ever have those moments where a deep pain invades your chest as if a sharp, thick, and cold dagger is being stabbed into your heart? Those moments when it is hard to breathe but extremely easy to leak salty drops of water. When time seems inexistent and each second lingers as an eternal torrential hormonal rain hammering your brain. And there are no raincoats, nor umbrellas, nor shelter...

Have you ever?

I have. I am... 

It has been almost a year since clouds have covered my heart. I have been under this freezing rain for what now seems forever, sometimes I don’t even realize that the rain is there, I guess I got used to the shivering cold. Yes, there have been couple of sunny days, even weeks. Moments where you feel that you have overcome the storm and that good things are about to come. Are they?

Weather forecast upgrade: sunny, with chances of thunderstorm... To be honest, my forecast is more like Hong Kong’s climate statistics, never accurate, always unpredictable. 

She missed him everyday. 

And now she knew that he did not. “I feel nothing,” were his precise words. What could be worse than indifference? 

Suddenly she felt as if there was no hope left in her heart. He was not only physically lost,  he was a universe distant in heart time. She was stock. Alone. Not even able to type a single more word. The storm had impaired her capacity to articulate her emotions. 

How to describe this pain? I marvel everyday at the little silly ways in which you demonstrate me that I mean nothing more than a cold text on your phone screen. I admire your capacity to ignore my emotions. Can you teach me this dark art of blessed disdain? Sometimes I even wonder if you are still able to feel anything apart from the obvious pity that you carelessly manifest with your actions. 

All that kindness, all that unimaginable love, passion... now is gone, no trace of it... All that is left are digital pictures, emails, and the glimpses of you, reflected in every tear rolling through my cold cheeks. You said that I truly know you... do I? Who are you?

She took another sip of that fancy tequila which she was saving for a special occasion. Little she new that she would end up sharing it with her old laptop and a couple of traveling mementoes on her desk, staring at her. But don’t get me wrong. She did not get drunk. 

I have lost the count of all the things I have done in my search for love immunity. I have tried all referred in literature and worldwide philosophy: went to typical friends’ dinners, started new hobbies, drank countless glasses of wine (even drank a whole bottle once), attended karaoke sessions where I hopelessly cursed the moment I met you, read self-help books which wisely pointed out how condemned our relationship was, wrote letters and endless emails, prayed for forgiveness and resignation, even went out on failed dates. 

Looking back at what had been the past months of her life, she felt desolated. Regardless of how hard she had tried to move on, she realized that he was still there, sitting next to her while she typed. That lover who does not love anymore, that sun with no warm light left, that future which has faded permanently.

Every time I find it harder to believe that true love exists. Maybe I already missed it. I fell for the wrong people for the past decade and missed the right one...

She felt trapped inside that little room where she locked herself in order to write. What she didn’t understand is that she was not trapped in that physical space, but in the walls of her own heart. 

Did I miss him? I am not sure. But I do know that I miss him, right now, this very second. Where are you? Who are you? I pray that you are fine. Yes, I have started to pray for you, faceless lover. Pray for you to be happy, to fulfill your destiny and ambitions, to eventually find me. Will you? Will we ever be able to find each other?

And with those words she realized that it was time to move on. One cannot be so blind to continue being attached to someone who does not even remember how to spell the four letter word. She has so much to give not only to that mysterious lover, but to the world itself. 

There are times when we may feel that everything is lost, that things will never be what they used to be. That all that happiness that you felt was not meant for you, that by mistake God gave you a glimpse of what perfection is. It was not a mistake. You deserve to be happy, you deserve to find love, but to find it you must be ready. Are you?

As humans we read signs wrong, fall, and stare at the pieces of our soul scattered on the ground. Yes, life is tough, but it is up to us to find strength to believe again that miracles exist, that this mistake is just a step closer to that moment which will divide our lives. 

Where we will know that there is a before and after. 

So I pray for him. 

For you.

I pray for us. 

Corny or not, she did believe in prodigious revelations. And as if an invisible wisdom lighting stroke her heart, it started to have a pulse again. It was not the same bit it used to have when that lost lover was around her, it was stronger, deeper, certain. 

She was not dying of another unrequited love coma, not again, for she was not alone in that little room. 

She never was. 

A couple of words (AEN Engish)

April 17, 2018

And she realized that all the love she felt had no place to be stored. As if all the vessels in the cupboard had been broken and the sweet sugar and spices were nowhere to be kept. Should she take those back to the grocery store?

What do you do with that? How do you proceed? Is there any protocol to follow when there is an unrequited love crisis? Is there a useful handbook which enlightens us on how to dispose of it or recycle it? Perhaps how to invest all those emotions into someone who actually appreciates them?

Is it even possible to do that? Can someone recycle love?

Any recipe, cookbook, prescription, manual, wikihow?
Any spell, prayer, words of wisdom?

And the worst:
I there actually someone?
Someone who would be our vessel for sugar, spices, and chili flakes?

There always is. This world has so many people that it would be impossible not to get someone to like you. Nevertheless, that is not enough. She wants to like him back, she wants to skydive without a parachute and feel the free fall, the air carrying her before touching the ground.

And the air is that: love.

So, she started writing again,
to no one, at least to no one she new.

I want to fall in love.

I recently realized that I might have never been in love before. 

Perhaps I took other emotions as real love. 
I want that now, not the flowers, not the promises,
not the gifts, not the expensive jewelry, 
not the lust, not the fancy words...
I just want that: pure love. 

I meet couples.

I see them, walking on the street while I drive my car.

Whenever I spot an old cute one, I wonder if I will experience that kind of happiness in 50 years...

If I will have grandkids to whom I will tell all my stories and adventures. 

Our stories, our adventures. 

I meet couples.

I see them, while I'm on the subway.

Sometimes they kiss. 

Whenever I spot one holding hands in a restaurant I wonder if I will ever do that again,

not just with anyone, I want to cling to his hand. 

The hand that you are meant not to let go. 

I meet couples.

I see them, while I am checking my Facebook's newsfeed.

They are sharing moments, trips, life...

Whenever I find these pictures I stare at them, or scroll them faster to stop me from thinking.

I wonder if I will post those things again,

I can't remember when was the last time I typed words as "amor", "love", "novio", "baby"... 

All those corny, cliché, but somehow meaningful nicknames.

I meet couples.

All the time.

Time keeps passing...

The Earth continues spinning. 

Babies are born.

Our old folks pass away. 

And all this love keeps piling, in my heart and my brains.

I meet couples.

I see them on the big screen, in the dark of the theater. 

They are running away from each other and then finding themselves back, they leave everything for each other. They make you feel that love has to exist, but not yet for you.

I wonder if my destiny will lead me to that turning point, to that daring screenplay, to that everlasting love. 

I meet couples.

I do.

Some are friends from long ago, getting married, and moving on. 

I go to their weddings and cherish their passion, their commitment, the dream that came true.

I wonder if they will come to my own, how my dress will be, how will he be.

I meet couples.

They are everywhere, they travel, they laugh, they cry, they fight, they make love. 

Love.

I still wonder what love is. Is it there, I mean, for me? 

Am I finding it anytime before my childbirth years fade..?

I meet couples.

I see them, I stare.

I feel jealous, I must confess.

They make me look lonely. I felt fine alone but somehow sometimes it is not enough.

I meet couples.

I praise them, embrace them...

I meet couples. 

They make me wonder, they make me hope.

I meet couples.

I do.

I meet couples,

but not you.