Day 42 – Let’s Go Fly a Kite
Happy New Year!
She says from her flat occupied by two people, under lockdown, sipping on cha. It could be worse: this could be England and celebrating new year with the absence of any alcohol or item of decoration including friends and family. Speaking to others, the Bengali new year as you might expect, is nothing like a Western new year. Similar to when we were on the bus riding home from the Geriatric Centre that first weekend, I can imagine that they get very drunk on food, sing a lot, invite all their friends round and then sleep. I suppose in a very, very selfish way, it could also be the Bengali New Year without the lockdown so everyone would be celebrating and we could be in our flat feeling very anti-social and left out; but since we cannot know whether that would have happened, I won’t think about it.
Last night I went out onto the roof after a gym session trying to maintain any tone I’d gained during basketball and found there were many flying objects in the sky. I spy with my little eye, something beginning with ‘K’. Kites. Almost every rooftop that surrounded our own were flying their own little paper kites, most of them plain white but with the odd coloured one amongst the majority for those who’d put a little more effort in. Most were already in the sky by the time I was audience to their dancing display but there was the odd roof that had saved their amusing attempts until later (this being around 6pm). I tried to capture a video of someone releasing their kite successfully and even after 20 mins, this didn’t happen.
May and I had finally got hold of the chessboard by arriving early after lunch only to be interrupted by the other PTs swarming around our poor attempts of playing until after only two games, I gave in to their intimidation and went back to play cards with the boys. We’d been fairly evenly matched, May and I, but once the other PTs were involved – even though I did win twice – the second time they barely let me play my own moves due to their impulsive male dominated habit. Don’t worry, I understand the difficulty overcoming this… After having taken a break as much as possible from cards, I didn’t mind being dealt into Go Fish again and actually enjoyed it, trying to bring as much life into the game as possible to break the seriousness of further male competition.
That night, I’d spent far too long on my phone before bed and have now stupidly signed up to some competitions of my own on Strava, which is an app used to map and manage sports activities and I usually put my runs in. Having now signed up for 20 mins of exercise everyday for the next month including at least 3 of these exercises being weight training, I went to the gym again this morning and for the first time ever, went on the treadmill. And I hated it. Not only was I running in barefoot which felt like running on hot, hard sand which has almost blistered my feet, but how does someone stare bleakly at a wall for so long? And running at the same pace – yes, I know it can be changed but who can be bothered beeping those tedious numbers to increase the speed… I could go on and on but I’m sure you have much better things to do than listen to my ramblings about the gym which I understand some of you are missing very much.
Today we’d managed to make pancakes and with remaining honey and ice cream from our last Unimart shop, it was a brief oasis in our current food agenda of veg, chillis, kitkats and more veg.
Photos: 1) Outside Women’s Ward 2) Lone Flyer