and it is snowing. and i see it out of the window.
It is NOT heavy snow, it is NOT like the whole place is white.
It is still light, at least for now.
The building opposite is white, or whitish but the windows are dark, so i can see the flakes against the window. It is falling in a seemingly random manner, where while the overall fall does have a particular direction the flakes don't seem to be following that very stringently..
You can see through the snow, not entirely - they aren't transparent, but they aren't opaque pieces of snow either - they are exactly what they are called - snow flakes. And they do look like the ones Pamuk describes in 'Snow'. They do seem to have a geometry to it and so on. Although I need to do a much closer eXamination of that to be sure.
Somehow waking upto it was such joy.
And somehow, it was like i am here. i was tempted to write i am home, but NO, maybe NOT yet. i am here though, truly. And not saying that in a bad way, in a good way.
These flakes seem uncatchable, as if they will disappear as soon as you hold them. And across the window, also a bit unreal, because I can't feel the cold that it must be out there.
A very dear friend of mine messaged me this morning, about things that seem to be uncatchable, and untenable, and un-reconcible. I am very responsible for the 'uns' in the situation. And it is sad, it is disappointing, it is hurtful, and it is painful, and I never wanted it to be like this. I really don't know why we are where we are.
But there does seem to be a sense of being at this point right now.
of having arrived. of being here.
And then, there are things - real, tangible, catchable,
And then there are snowflakes.