Ezterab

Yesterday we went to the art museum and had a bit of date night. We saw a lot of artwork and many paintings by all the big guns — Picasso, van Gogh, Monet, even Whistler, you name them. And after we had walked around all the rooms and floors filled with ancient art (made by ancient men), we came across this piece by an Iranian artist we had never heard of and the husband got very taken by it (taken to it?). Its title translated literally to “restlessness” and the canvas itself was filled with the word over and over and over again. I’m not the morose one between us two but I saw the point. And I understood when he said to me that we should have this at the entrance of our apartment so it sets the mood for any and every visitor.

I recently learnt that there’s an app where you can make friends. It’s like the dating apps but for friendship. I’ve luckily never had to use an app built to find love/partnership but this friendship thingy came as a recommendation and I thought I’d give it a shot. And it’s been nothing but overwhelming. How are we to know we truly match each other based on performative profiles? I came across a couple of people I’d love to get to know organically but really don’t know how to start a conversation with virtually. And it feels real strange saying that considering I’ve met so many of my friends — and my husband! — online. All based on performative profiles we’ve had over the years but, honestly, never on apps created to push us to talk to or meet each other.

How do I tell you, new friend, that I just moved continents and don’t even have a phone number for us to coordinate through? To myself, I sound like a very shady person. Perhaps we could meet organically instead, at a poetry slam or art gallery. Could you, please, come up to me instead? I’m in my 30s and just so shy until I get to know you better.

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Last week, I had the privilege of donating 15 inches of my hair (for a second time in my life) to a children’s hair loss organization. I’m currently typing this with a crew cut, much shorter than I had anticipated. Although I felt great, a couple of negative comments really got to me and it took me a week to learn to love myself again. In this long life that we live, too few people realize the meaning of selflessness — or know that there is so much more for us to offer to anyone in need. That kindness can come without parameters. That what I look like is not who I am and who I am is so much more than what is seen. And who you are can be too. That one must really learn to measure their words before they speak, especially at this big old age of ours.

What am I watching this week? Well, I finished Baker and the Beauty and now I’m watching Only Murders in the Building. And I’m looking out of the peephole for whenever the maintenance folks come over to fix my faulty oven so I can finally make us some Pakistani-style chicken and capsicum pizza.