Last summer

Suvarnabhumi airport has started taking on a new shade. The gray feels like a dungeon. The reflecter glass windows make me feel like a prisoner. Of course, we hate, hate transits. The only redeeming factors, are when you meet people - interesting ones, who make interesting conversations, and then disappear. Then there are strangers to observe, their language that goes above your head. But those are not what transits mean to me anymore.

So, I walked into the grey ladies room again, when I arrived, gathering whatever it is that you need to do things you don't want to, but know that you have to. The heat went right up to my temples, making me want to run out of the cubicles. It tugged on my face, my throat and on my limbs. But I needed myself to stand there and face it. I had to confront the heat. I had to take my time to spend some more time sitting on the toilet seat and and know that nothing would go wrong this time.

Bangkok is not yet over. But it will be, tomorrow morning. Till then, i'll go book myself a 6 hour room in Louis Tavern, saunter in the duty free, swing my legs over the seats in the lounge and try to read a book borrowed from a fellow-passenger, called SOLD, which tells the story of a little girl sold to sex slavery.

And I will think of possibilities. I will also think of you, who I left behind forever, last summer.