Folding a shirt on a windy day.

As I was trying to fold clothes, against gusts of wind blowing through the window, struggling to lay the shirt flat on the bed, I thought:

It’s wonderful to have this struggle, it’s all here only on earth, thus far: the gusts of wind, this shirt struggle, a sunny day in India.

And so here I am, on this side, struggling to fold a shirt dancing in the wind, while there is an airless vacuum of space on the other side, where I could fold it in a snap. For the ghostly creature giving trouble to shirts lives around my house, not on the other side.

[Originally written on 15 December, 2019 in the afternoon in Pune, India]

November 19, 2022