Sunday, 27 April 2014

The farewell dinner in Fort Cochin ...



Clearing away moleskines and diaries in readiness for Tony and Jigger, I glanced at one of the pages I'd scrawled, lolling in the Emirates jet, sleepy, yet my mind still zinging with bright memories of India - we'd been flying from Kochi to Dubai - I'd stopped watching back to back episodes of Vikings - my words darted like nervy minnows across the paper -

There, on the page, I'd described, too briefly, how we had walked to The Old Harbour Hotel in balmy twilight - I'd mentioned steamed red snapper -

We'd skirted the Parade Ground, wary of the sinister dogs - the lean boys who'd played joyful cricket there that afternoon had gone elsewhere, perhaps to the waterfront, or to Jew Town or Mattancherry -

Shadows peopled fragrant gardens - I thought of the Jewish merchants whose paintings I'd seen in Koder House - the moon had shone upon their tragic heads - I saw delicate silver leaves upon the branches of a shapely tree - 

Jane and Ken had gone ahead, followed by Paul and Sophie - Anne was wearing a green dress - 

We'd had dinner in the hotel's courtyard - I looked up at the stars - there was a floodlit swimming pool - I wanted every moment to last forever - the next day, we would be flying back to the pale world we had forgotten - 



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