After the storm of packing up
DONE. The most overwhelming part about moving on is over. All my personal stuff have been packed in seventy boxes and shipped tonight. Two years of collectibles from Dubai and India are about to see a new home.
I have moved houses so many times in my life that I am now an expert to being oblivious to the sadness of leaving. But the sadness in this flat pokes fun at me tonight: it lingers to remind me that I am sleeping tonight in empty, lifeless space. There is neither a chair nor a bed, only the four pieces of luggage I shall lug on my trip back home and the laptop on my lap top. There is no Pluto the Persian Cat. He is busy napping in the vet’s clinic, awaiting the final tasks of getting moved to another place himself.
My earthly possessions
At once, I thought of the agonies of solitary confinement and the strength one needs to overcome them, and I realized my fortune for the lessons of detachment that I have learned from the teachings of Bahá’u’lláh, Prophet-Founder of the Bahá’í Faith. That is the source of my strength. That is what I need to get by tonight, and all the days and nights to come.
In the meantime, I need to prepare my beddings: an old straw mat salvaged somewhere, and a pillow made up of shopping bags. Good night.
Keeping connected
