Wednesday 31 July 2019

Have I ever missed the starting gun in my life?


My drive to the office in the morning is the moment usually dedicated to mantras and reflection. It feels like the only part of the day where I treat myself to auspicious vibes and don’t have to worry about any in-between chores. This morning, however, witnessed a different me who swapped to nostalgia mode thinking about this past decade which has gone by in my life. A background music played in my head: 'Glasgow love theme' by Craig Armstrong. It got me thinking about the highlights of each and every year that has gone by since 2009.

2009: Passing away of Dad
2010: Trip to India with Mike
2011: Employee of the year award with a bittersweet taste
2012: Earthquake at Solis + trip to KL/Singapore with Shaf
2013: Trip to Cape Town with Patrice
2014: The sad year / All the stages leading to the end of a story
2015: Earthquake at BAI + break up + quitting my job
2016: Vimla + Rogers / Blue Sky
2017: New York + New Job + New Beginning
2018: Kids departing + Nepal +  a new bond
2019: Rodrigues + JIOI + Antish

Vimla and I always talk about the precious human rebirth, how short spanned a human life is and how important it is to feed it with values and principles and enhance its quality by indulging into different practices.

I have always considered my life to be an ordinary one but with a lot of extras, like the toppings that you sprinkle over an ice-cream.




Saturday 20 July 2019

The 2019 Games

In my heart and in my mind the Indian Ocean Island Games will always be associated to the image of my cousin Sheila winning the gold medal of the 800 metres in athletics. That was in 1985 and I was a preteen. The tremendous excitement that rocked the whole island during those games is yet unmatched and the icing on the cake came with our national football team winning the final against La Reunion in the most epic match ever. I even recall crying that afternoon, feeling an indescribable pride being Mauritian, being an islander, being the witness of that iconic moment in the history of our country.

18 years later, the 2003 games did fill us with great joy once more when, again, we bonded as a nation with the atmosphere in the various sports complexes around the island reaching astonishing feverish peaks. As close as it came though, it was not a remake of 1985. Yes, we won more medals, performances were enhanced, the technology had evolved, our football crew shone again and we, Mauritians, were more well-off than in the mid-eighties and had easier financial means to celebrate and rejoice. Still, the magic spirit of 1985 was lacking, you know... les cinq sous qui manquent pour faire la roupie.

2019 and the games are now back to Mauritius. How will our athletes fare this time? This is an open question. A friend of mine told me that he considered these games to be a total wastage of money. I respect his point of view and consider that the affairs of corruption attached to the organisation has marred our opinion yet again about our politicians and 'leaders'. That said, should our athletes be the ones to pay the price of their felonies? Shouldn't we, on the contrary, be in the stadiums and gymnasiums to encourage them? I am an ardent supporter of Club M and this time I am bringing Antish with me for the experience of a lifetime filled with hope that I will be able to ignite in him the same passion that burns inside of me when it comes to pushing our athletes to go beyond their limits. It is such a big thrill to see them perform and giving it all for their country. After all, a successful team beats with one heart, don't you think so?

Sheila and Mamou Dan 1985

4x400 mts team 1985

Football Final 2003 - Ene sel lepep, ene sel nation
Opening Ceremony 2019


Saturday 13 July 2019

Traveling through life

Almost mid-July and nothing posted yet. How come?

The days are going by at an accelerated pace, so much so that I can hardly breathe. The feeling of being in love implies that every second that you spend in your life suddenly becomes overly precious, each laughter inestimable, each conversation priceless, each kiss exquisite. It also means that these moments of incalculable worth may stop all of a sudden now that you have acknowledged that your life has swapped into another dimension.

I understand Antish when I see tears filling his eyes when we talk. I have been there too when I was younger, so I will not try to reason him and ask him not to feel the way he is feeling. On the contrary, he has 'only one heart in one body in one life', an organ which is meant to be stretched and squeezed and burst, a piece of himself meant to express itself as an own entity.

Days may go by, not their vibrancy. We are surrounded by an aura which leads us both towards white nights where we go to lose ourselves. Nothing matters there, neither the unfolding of landscapes, nor the sounds of ambient music. I like that we travel through our existence, dancing to life's own tunes and feeling the invisible presence of the only thing that stands out; irrepressible love.

Last night life had the taste of that warm cinnamon&apple pie that we ate, it shone as brightly as the far away lights that we saw from Les Mariannes, it sounded like the Nazia Hassan song that we sung in my car from Trou aux Cerfs to Vacoas, last night life took the shape of his curves and exuded the flavor of his skin after we made out. Last night another miracle shook our world.








Douze petites minutes

Quatre rues séparent ma maison de C hez Ram où trois pains maison chauds chauds  m'attendent tous les matins. Cinq minutes à pieds pour ...