Being together with some friends means enjoying life. I don’t need to be very intellectual or very funny. I am just the way I am.
I remember when my parents invited their friends, my family had to spend some very dumb hours. My father tried to talk as intelligently as possible. My mother tried to tell funny stories about our pets and about my brother and me.
Very often, my father was making fun of my mother and vice versa; and the guests tried to help the one or the other in order to prevent a big scene.
When the invitees left, the invitation always ended in a nasty fight between my mom and my dad. I don’t remember it without it. Never.
Nowadays, when my friends leave, I feel nurtured by love. It is as if I received a great gift.
They didn’t know each other. One came from Spain, one from Switzerland.
One wanted to be close to the other, the other one hated it. Black Tomcat always stood up and left the place when Tigress, the Spanish cat, came in its neighborhood.
Tigress stayed at home on the sofa, during Tomcat was chasing mice and enjoying long walks. Tigress always stood at the door when Tomcat came back.
A few months ago, Tigress was meowing very loud in the cellar. I didn’t get the point. She didn’t stop until I realized that Tomcat was locked in one of the cellar rooms.
After a year of sharing the same household, Tomcat obviously started to be friendlier; from time to time, he licked Tigress when she was very demonstratively standing in front of him and wished to be caressed. Or, Tomcat shares now their cat basket without meow.
A few days, they started fooling around, playing, turning and rolling on the floor. And after that, it seemed as if they were playing hide-and-seek.
What did I learn of Tigress?
Patience is a long-term investment and is certainly valuable for all sorts of relationships.
I don’t have a lot of memories of my childhood playing together with other children.
Maybe, it is because my mother wanted us, my brother and me, to be around her when we came back from school.
Maybe, she was feeling so lonely at home when we were at school and she was happy to have company when school was off.
She was upset when I spent the whole afternoon on my bed in my room reading books.
She wasn’t happy when I brought my friend with me and when we were knitting pullovers and drinking tea during our free afternoons on Wednesdays.
I should have been my mom’s unique friend.
What a destiny: Being born for replacing her difficult childhood during World War II by a happy motherhood.
It is a rainy day; school is off. The kids are playing, but not playing together; rehearsing a own play to invite their mothers to come and see.
They close the shutters because there has to be special light. They organize popcorn and syrup. They write an invitation card for theirs mums; they even create a form, which has to be personally signed by the invitees.
It is amazing how creative children can be. They give themselves names like Max or Alina instead of Leonard or Ellie.
In the play, they talk to each other as if they were adults.
It is wonderful to be part of this play and even more as spectators.
Time stands still.
Memories of the own childhood pass. It also has been a rainy day.
The three kids laugh and take me back to their play.
In thirty years, this moment will be part of their memories.
They play around; they have big fun.
The little one grew up in India, the older one in Switzerland. The one speaks Tibetan, the other one Swiss German. Both know a few words in English but not much.
The little one is living in a boarding school in Dharamsala, the older goes to a Swiss public school. The older one has around stuffed animals in his bed, the little one cannot imagine what this means.
The little one doesn’t have any memories of his mother because she left him when he was two years old; the older one calls about fifty times a day “Mama”.
Maybe, the older one will be traveling again to India as an adult with his girl friend or his brother. Maybe, the little one will be living in the Tibetan community in New Deli and running a travel agency.
Both boys will be having friends and no barriers to share time with foreign people.
Spending time with friends is very important. Feeling connected brings warmth into life.
Sometimes, you don’t feel very close to certain friends, but you still like them.
Sometimes, your friend’s life changes so much that you don’t have much in common. This feels strange and it bothers me.
Sometimes, it feels okay that you are gliding away from each other because you don’t have anything to share with.
Friendship is a very delicate thing.
It pushes me to enjoy every beautiful moment to the full extent because nothing stays the same.
A cat is a cat, and a cat is eating, sleeping, walking and again eating, sleeping, walking. Nothing else. Right.
But a cat is more than that. A cat starts being in a relationship with the human being, which is taking care of it. At the beginning, the two, the cat and the human being, are connected on a low level. The more time they spend together the more they get involved.
Now, the one comes home, the other is standing behind the door and saying hello. Now, the one is making a tea, the other is coming to the kitchen to have a bite.
Isn’t it the same thing with a relationship between two human beings? Just a little bit more complicated?
In fact, the principle is exactly the same. The two beings are connected to each other and acting most of the time in correlation to each other. Right?
She became our best friend in India; Karma was different than the other shopkeepers in Varkala. At the first time, we dropped into her shop, she didn’t tell us to buy this or that. The Tibetan woman just let us have a look around, and there were so many things to discover. The boys started passing by more often. While she was doing bracelets or earrings, they were sitting in front of her and getting interested in her art craft and her culture. She also told them about Dalai Lama and the Tibet. We got invited for tea, later for delicious momo. Last year, her business did not go well and she was talking about moving somewhere else in India. We would have followed her. But fortunately, she is still in Varkala, and our next visit to South India at Christmas will be like coming home – thanks to Karma.