Treasure hunting.

Sun.10.Nov.24.

Greetings with sunshine, my friend. Have you been able to go merrily about your daily routine?

I was lugging around a mighty ol’ sack these past few days. You couldn’t see it, it ain’t had colour, size, shape. But, heaven help me, as I dragged closer to The Dreaded Day, that thing felt heavy like an arapaima.

On Friday, as I was about to go to meet me fate, I packed a book to keep me company. Was a big-size book, if I had to faint because of all the worrying, let the book fall on me face and cover me shame.

I looked around for a book-marker. The words on it caught my eye. LIFE IS A TREASURE HUNT. YOU JUST HAVE TO KNOW WHERE TO LOOK.

Haha, noooo, not another Life Is meme, I drowning in these Life Is messages, every wisdom-walla touting them on Cyberspace.

Friend, blame it on the moment, the worry, whatever. The book-marker message glued on to my brain as I waited to see the doctor, aaaand, voilà, what y’know, I became a wisdom-guru as I sat there, pondering.

What are treasures? Are jewels treasures? Tasty food? Cars? A fab home? Of course they are! What about that list I have, are places, situations, events treasures too?

Showering with cold water on a hot afternoon, breeze puffing through the open window 

Sunlight streaming through the bathroom window, making long beads o’ rainbow colours with the shower-water

Crickets chirping de whole night long ‘til dawn

Crawling under the mosquito net and slipping into a deep sleep 

Ice tinkling in a glass of water

Warm sun, chilly breeze on the sea wall in January 

Sea breeze beating music in my ears

Coming home from the market with a basket pack-up with veggies and fruit 

The heron at the tip-top branch of a tall tree

Sipping cool coconut water by the Pegasus poolside in the middle of the afternoon, under the trees

Sunset on the dome of the mosque across the two roads

Sunset reflecting in the canal where birds and frogs nestle and the lilies grow

The faint sound of a Bollywood song drifting from a far off house

The smell o’ curry wafting from a home as I stroll down a street in Georgetown 

Parrots calling each other, gossiping as they fly by early morning

The smell o’ fish frying as I saunter past a house near the seawall

Coconut trees soca-swaying in light breeze

Coconut water from a roadside vendor 

Watching the roadside vendor peel pineapple, slicing out those “eyes”

A proper queue of little children in school uniform walking with teacher in grass parapet, heading to an excursion 

The little school children, in a chorus, greeting me in our sing-song accent: Good morrrrrrning 

Young people trailing out from school in the afternoon

School bell ringing in the morning for recess, and children’s voices shouting with glee

Market vendors calling out what they’re selling 

Music cart vendor playing romantic songs

Rooster crowing in the mornings

Chatting with street vendors

Sitting on the stone bench in front of Republic Bank on Water Street, people-watching

Taxi drivers describing things they’ve seen and heard 

The smell of cook-up, rich with coconut milk, drifting from a home on a Saturday midday, somewhere in Kitty 

Every house, every street with a personality of its own, different in style, character, shape, size, colour

My books! My mini-collection of art, gifts of craft from friends from different countries, my brightly coloured bowls made in Portugal, my other crockery given as presents. Why not? Why shouldn’t we enjoy lovely things? My guitar, my bookshelf I’ve had since I was fourteen.

“You’re okay,” the doctor said.

Going home, I remembered a question my best friend in the whole wide world had once asked me. What’s your number one priority?

Family, love, I replied. What’s yours, I asked.

Health, he replied.

That’s selfish, I said.

No, he said, when you don’t have good health, it’s harder to enjoy everything; when you’re healthy, you can take care of the people you love, and you can work on your dreams.

(I don’t think he said dreams, it was probably something prosaic, but dreams sounds nicer in my happy little head-space.)

Home. I skip out of the vehicle, I better get me tail busy looking for treasure, creating treasure, nothing ain’t falling into me lap, budday!

That’s it, dear friend, I hope I ain’t disappoint you, lead you to think that I got a Mighty Big Revelation that gon change the world. I ain’t even going to mine for gold or diamond up the Potaro and share fantastic adventures, you ain’t seeing me on social media balancing on slippery slope, one foot kicking like ballerina.

As for the mighty ol’ bag I been fetching, you can have it if you wish, it ain’t got a designer name though. But it can stretch real big, so you can full it up with anything you find.

Just remember to take good care of you, eat nice food and don’t forget to dance! See you two Sundays from now, plenty luuuuv, neena.