Primavera

Hoje quase parecia que a Primavera tinha chegado. Acordei antes do despertador tocar e tenho que admitir que, mesmo assim, me sentia "well-rested". De facto, como não é costume, havia bastante luz a invadir o meu quarto - apesar das persianas estarem bem fechadas - o que fez com que tivesse que lançar um segundo olhar para o relógio para me certificar de que não tinha adormecido, mas não. Eram 7:40 da manhã, e já o sol estava alto no céu. Quando saí de casa vi que as árvores já estavam em flor e não pude evitar sorrir: A estação está a mudar :)

Desassossego

"O comboio abranda, é o Cais do Sodré. Cheguei a Lisboa, mas não a uma conclusão."
Livro do Desassossego

The Tiger, the Grandmother and the Wardrobe

Sitting at the table, speaking to my great-aunt, I discovered the image I had created of her in my mind was not real. Not even close. It was half past seven, in the evening, and my aunt was eating porridge. I had never thought my eyes would witness such a thing! She started telling me about her youth. She was quite a daredevil! Not at all what I had imagined of her. I myself was not eating, so I excused myself and went “sight-seeing” in her house - I had imagined her as a lonely old lady who sat around knitting all day long but, apparently, I was wrong: her house reminded me of Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory - everything was colorful, candy-like. In her bedroom, her wardrobe was open, and I couldn’t help looking in: her clothes were all in fluorescent and extremely vibrant colors, but these were not the clothes I usually saw her wearing... I waltzed back to her dining room, expecting to see my aunt finishing her, rather big, bowl of porridge. What I saw made my eyes almost jump out of their sockets! My aunt who moments before was just another 80-year-old woman, in a grey outfit, was now in a bright yellow sweater and neon-green pants. She looked rather stunning actually. Before my eyes were able to adapt to the colors of her clothes, I felt something tug at my jeans. Hesitatingly, (in case when I looked back up my aunt would be normal again) I glanced down and I was even more amazed. I felt my jaw fall to the floor. My aunt had been telling me about her new pet – I had presumed she meant a cat, but I was wrong, again. A baby tiger was her new companion. Luckily for me, it wasn’t big enough to seriously harm me. I sat down and the tiger leapt onto my lap. I flinched. It licked my face and my nerves were soothed. I turned my gaze to my aunt, who was now wearing a too tight pink skirt and a shockingly red shirt, but before I was even sure about what I was looking at, I felt a sudden burst of pain. I looked down at my pale arm: The tiger was no longer there, and instead, I had a long scratch – I poked it and felt another burst of pain. I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I saw my mother’s pale and freckly face looking down at me, with her hand pinching my arm.
—Wake up sleepy head. It’s time for school!

Ingenuidade

As crianças acenaram da janela. Felizes. Felicidade que naquela idade não é difícil alcançar. No início algumas sentaram-se, isoladas, não interagindo com os colegas, nem connosco. Minutos depois já andavam aos pulos à nossa volta. Ingenuidade. Pureza. Acima de tudo, alegria. O que eu não dava para voltar a ter a idade deles e esquecer-me das preocupações que a idade nos traz, mas isso não é possível e, se calhar, é uma mais-valia. No momento de partida, houve crianças que não se quiseram despedir. Agarraram-se a nós, prendendo as nossas pernas. Começaram a fazer as típicas birras de criança: houve crianças que choraram e houve crianças que gritaram. Saímos da sala. Olhámos para dentro momentos depois – as coisas tinham voltado ao normal. Agiam como se nunca lá tivessemos estado. As birras tinham cessado. O choro tinha parado. A única marca de que lá tínhamos estado era a desarrumação.
A felicidade, após uma breve ausência, já se tinha instalado de novo. A memória da nossa visita quase apagada.

9/12/10