Back from a long break…
As much as I enjoy travelling and learning new food and cultures, eventually I get home sick and I want to get back to my nice warm bed. But apparently it was a burning hot bed when we finally reached home as my city is burning right now. We could make omelette on our roads!
Yeah, we know to save some energy !
But coming home took an extra night as our lock refused to let us enter the home. Ha ha ha….. What a comic tragedy !
I think you miss home even if you are living at the finest hotels in the following order – your own comfortable bed with pillows that do no give you neck pain, your own bathroom however small it might be but your own shower and your home toilet is always a throne and business is only done properly once you are in your own neighbourhood and after all this, you miss your home cooked food.
Once home, I was back to cooking. I just made this spaghetti sauce which have all indian ingredients which I was missing away from home – indian purple onions, capsicum, green chillies, strong flavour of garlic and of course coriander.
I also got reunited to my book, Dear Scott, Dearest Zelda.
A book of letters written between F. Scott and his wife Zelda.
A complicated love story and yet the letters written shows so much love between them both.
The Irony of their life was that when they were apart they longed for each other. But when they were together specially the first 10 years of their marriage, fame played a very dark force which damaged each other forever.
Scott had become an alcoholic and Zelda had a mental breakdown and lived in and out of various mental institutions for the rest of her years.
Its during this time their letters were of anger, confessions, forgiveness, love, longing for what was lost, understanding for each other and falling in love with each other which was no longer a physical attraction but a spiritual connection.
Both being writers, they never had proffesional rivalry except for the one and a half years, when they both wrote a novel and both of their novel turned out to be on the same story line, which was their marriage. Inspite of this Scott had helped Zelda with her novel and they learned to get over this set back as well.
Zelda always thought she will die apart from Scott and probably she had foreseen it. Scott died of a heart failure at 44 and Zelda died 8 years after in a fire in a mental institution. She had written to Scott in one of the letters that I have a feeling you will not be there to see me die and I shall die with my shoes on.
If I was writing Zelda’s story I think when the mental institution caught fire she had a chance to escape but she stood there staring at the fire asking it to take her to her Dearest Do-do Scott.
I am sharing parts of Zelda’s letters which I read when I finally reached home.
“ I cannot live any more with people under thirty- harmoniously. They have too much to learn from experiences which I have already achieved- and do not care to be reminded of or have to explain to others.”
“Wish for nothing and achive the infinite: nothing.”
” I have not forgotten my original impetus: which has been for considerable time to hue myself one whence we may go on quitely loving as Gods see fit and we ourselves deem just and fair. So if you have accepted any spiritual bonds with this mass of confusion which I have grown fo think of as myself, love me too.”
Oh how I wish to born in the times of writing letters !