20_Clash of identities, clash of worlds

I went out from the kitchen and there was this song of Louis Armstrong-what a wonderful world played in the poor quality radio. Out of the sudden I was different – having a nice dress, makeup and high heels, smiling and feeling the flirt in the air. It would be the same sky with the same stars, so romantic and so big, it would feel I want to breathe in the whole world in my lungs. I would be feminine and beautiful, enjoying every second of this young time given to me.

And here was I – having the same clothes for long and seeing myself only once a day from the broken dirty small mirror, having all days and nights the same cheap fleece hat, eating loudly sucking my fingers in local style, not shaving my legs and wearing big mountain boots for weeks.

A big ball stacked somewhere in my chest, getting a dose of tears and rolling up getting ready to outburst on the outer part. Why did I get to know another world before? Why have I come to know this world? Now I am somewhere in between, with lost identity, unable to live in any of those places anymore.

I have made a rule for myself-not to watch any of those movies I have spent so much time to download prior going to the village. Once I did that mistake, feeling that I have deserved it after a long and tiring day. The movie was crap, but I couldn't stop it, I watched for a big western city and clothes, apartments, parties, bathrooms, restaurants, sofas and street lights. Everything I got tired from, but everything I spent all my life in. I sat in my sleeping bag, feeling so drunk and dizzy. My mind could not process all that information I have seen and everything I am in now. Those wooden walls, holes instead of windows and newspapers instead of wallpapers-is this all just a dream or I am trapped? Will I be ever able to go back? Where is this place-to go back? And is that place real? In this clash of worlds I felt so confused, not even sure if I am sad, rather sick. That night I was empowered enough to break through all the obstacles and go to the toilet at night, I did not know though if I could make it, my head was spinning around.

My typical room

“Are you real?” I asked the buffalo on my way. The animal continued eating looking at me with its big smart eyes. That buffalo is so tired of non-stop eating and living on a short lease. It can only stand or lay, and maybe a step around the pole. And I am free-born in freedom and having my wings to fly despite whatever financial, social or personal constraints are there. Noone has ever managed to tie me. Or maybe I should let to be attached, to be tied and to have my place? To stop this war of the worlds…

ritualistic fire during "puja" (worship)

I will not watch movies here anymore.