Parosan

I have blogged about Parosan before. She has always wanted me to.

It’s been on my mind to write about her. It sent her flying into a chortling spasm of rapture to know that I've finally blogged about her again.

Parosan once sat next to me. Everyday of our lives then, I got to hear all her rantings. What I did not, she would tell me over our long strolls comet-spotting by the sea sky. She was a terribly impulsive child, always a little unsure of herself, yet randomly outspoken in a way that did me proud. She had a certain wild spunk about her which surfaced to this world, most sharply every now and then. She was bubbling with questions aiming them at me, in rapid succession,  like one heat seeking missile after another; questions  about everything you can ever imagine like potion boiling in a cauldron, precariously darting itself out. She was like an atom, a quark, in constant motion, zipping away, doing a million different things with her life, all at the same time; at times stumbling, at times sailing through high mast, every bit as curious and eager to zealously consume life like an infant running amuck in a room full of furniture.

We lived our lives at the same mad pace, a little differently. I never spoke as much about myself as much perhaps as she did. Yet somewhere in between the baroque of her life, she sensed things in a shockingly remarkable manner. I never really had the advantage of a poker face. From some faraway corner, something as little as the slightest twinge in my voice, she knew something was gently swaying me at sea. I never really needed to tell her things. Her ‘care-a-hang’ take on things was swift and sharp, like a pin prick. It was always a perspective, radically different from my line of thought, refreshing and hilarious.

Today Parosan is older, a measurably mellowed quark making her transit through a denser environment. She is fast approaching fork roads I have survived before. I am a little afraid for her. I advise her caution. Her questions are still gurgling, as wild as rapid.

I only hope it isn’t time soon that I run out of answers.