50 – this two digit number brings to mind celebrations,
commemorations and merry-making in myriad shades of gold, all on its own. Be it
a birthday, an anniversary or even a corporate milestone, the joy and sense of
achievement is almost the same. Now I know this because I experienced the same
sentiments just a couple of weeks ago. No, I did not hit the golden landmark of
my age (I have many years to go before I punch in my midlife crisis card). I
did however cross that prestigious mark in the number of articles I’ve written
in this space on Herald Café and if not for the physical evidence, I’d find it
hard to believe myself!
I still remember being approached to write this weekly
column early last year by a close friend of mine. It was quite the
picture-perfect moment – a lovely summer’s day under a canopy of leaves
accompanied by a just-right gentle breeze, the wafts of heavenly-crafted eggs
benedict, the appropriate clink of ice cubes in a glass of fresh juice and the
murmur of chatter from the surrounding tables that was just loud enough to hear
oneself over. In the midst of our own nonsensical conversation, he popped the
question; “So, what would you say to writing your own weekly column?” I blinked
and then I blanked, for what seemed like an eternity. Then I squeaked, in this
high pitched voice that can only come from too much anticipation and excitement
bubbling beneath the surface; “Me? Really? You want me to write a weekly
column?” Looking back now, I think he chose a popular café as the setting for
the proposition on purpose so that I wouldn’t make more of a scene…
Safe to say, after I had gotten over the initial
exhilaration, I calmed down enough to say yes and work out the terms and
conditions. I then came rushing home, dusted off my laptop that had been starving
for use, flipped it open aaand… Nothing. Nada. Zilch. I seemed to have
contracted writer’s block and a bout of
at-a-loss-for-words-and-not-in-a-good-way all at once. PANIC!!! What was I
going to write about week after week? And what if I couldn’t deliver? Oh the
pressure! After a quick dread riddled prayer, a power nap, some coffee, intense
hand wringing, some floor pacing and a fervent vow to be good, inspiration not
only struck but flowed and my first installation came in at a whopping 950
words!
Then came the next-to-impossible task of clicking an
appropriate picture for the space. For others, I believe it must have been a
breeze. I mean, someone talking about music could pose with musical
instruments; someone discussing food could pose with state-of-the-art, deadly
sharp, chef knives; but what does someone whose thoughts and points of view are
random, disconnected and all over the place, pose with? An empty thought
bubble? Anyway, I couldn’t put much thought into it because, due to health
restrictions at the time, I couldn’t move beyond the four walls of my house.
And so, what should have been my glammed up, glorious shot turned out to be my
whatever-clothes-I-feel-most-comfortable-in-and-with-the-least-amount-of-makeup
shot. Shot on the terrace of my home, under the canopy of my water tank.
Seriously!
But in spite of all these hilarious hiccups, there’s been no
looking back. I cherish every moment when someone tells me they’ve read my
piece, let alone enjoyed it. So a big ‘thank you’ to team Herald Café for
putting up with me, my delays, my typos and my randomness. Words aren’t enough
to tell you just how
grateful I am!
