© rb jetlag

I saw the window in my jetlag-dream. But the room had no walls, in the dream.

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“Room 125”    Soundscape     02:23     Sounds best with headphones


From my monsoon-notebooks (1 of 3)

A hotel room.
No 125, sea view.
Not so far from the equator. –
There’s a real nice old English style writing desk standing at the window.


© rb first glance

On my first morning I woke up at 11am. I had arrived late after midnight. And now yet the day towered high with its ‘masses’ of white-hot light, razor-sharp, merciless. There was no sign of wet season at that time.

I shied away from going out. With this light the city was jumping at me even when I only sat here at the desk at the window. I couldn’t imagine myself wanting to leave the hotel.


© rb second glance

© rb second glance

The first day in this city I spent almost entirely at the window of my hotel room. At 12 I decided to have room service and ordered a club sandwich and cold drinks and was fine with that till evening.

I looked at the ocean again and again and trying to realize that in my back there was the city where I’d be going to live from now. I could hear its noises when I switched off the air condition. I heard the sound of the strong breakers and the city faintly behind it.

(From my monsoon-notebooks)