Skip to main content

Bloom

This is a chapter from my seventh book called Bookeh - Through the lens of a Trinidadian photog


It is after midnight in the middle of the week and I am in the mood to write. I go to use the bathroom and saw the blue bucket. I told myself that that blue bucket would make a good photo and probably lead to a fun chapter. In doing research I learnt about two "blue bucket" initiatives. The Perfect World Foundation is behind the Blue Bucket initiative where boat owners are reminded to pick up plastic they encounter at sea. Also, some parents use blue buckets to signal that their child has autism during trick or treat and Halloween. If I combine blue and bucket I get blucket which has both the word luck in it and if I remove luck I am left with bet. And this leads me to the two bucket theory. This is a concept used by pilots to describe the relationship between luck and experience. We start with a bucket empty of experience where we have to get bet-ter and another bucket full of luck. The bucket full of luck has a hole in it. The idea is to become full of experience before luck runs out.

There is an African proverb that goes, "Until you carry your own bucket, you won't understand the value of a drop of water." Similar to the proverb, "Don't judge a man until you've walked a mile in his shoes." Then there is the Yoruba proverb that goes, "Do not throw away water you have in the bucket because you hear the thunder clap". I could probably fill a bucket with proverbs if I continue. Let me add one more proverb for good measure. Like this Chinese proverb, "A person cannot be judged by his appearance in the same way as the sea cannot be measured with a bucket." Speaking of the sea. The French word for bucket is seau. I guess I could say that proverbs are good for the seaul. If only seaul was the French word for soul.

This blue bucket that I have photographed is cracked at the top side and has served us well everytime the water goes and I have to take bucket baths. I am reminded about the story about the leaky bucket that has been around the internet for some time. An elderly Chinese woman carried two buckets on a pole—one perfect and one cracked. For two years, the perfect bucket felt proud while the cracked one lamented its inability to deliver a full load. One day, the cracked bucket confessed its shame, and the woman smiled, revealing that she had planted flowers along its side of the path. Each day, as the cracked bucket leaked water, it nurtured those flowers, bringing beauty to her home. The woman explained that its flaw had created joy and beauty, teaching the bucket that imperfections can lead to unexpected blessings. I like how my blue bucket led to a story of blooms. How bluetiful. And that completes another chapter in this book, eh. I think I will eventually need a bucket to carry all my books and then it would be a booket.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A pot of callaloo

Call for Submissions: Archipelagic Entanglements   https://singaporeunbound.org/opp/archipelagic-entanglements When I saw the call for submissions online I was doubtful. I do not know enough history. I do not understand the topic. Then after chatting with my friend Chatty I realised maybe I can be the topic. My ethnic and racial makeup is an archipelagic entanglement. Colonialism meets indentureship meets slavery. My mom is East Indian muslim and my dad is French, Portuguese and Mulato christian and who knows what else. I am an example of a pot of callaloo. Everyone's favorite Sunday lunch. I am what happens when lineages cross oceans and histories collide. I am thinking to myself now, what is the message I want to put forward with my blog post? What is the direction I want to take? Maybe it is this. What can we do when we have such a rich heritage and know so little of our own history? First of all I do not think I am alone with this struggle. I did not realise this until I though...

Cup of coffee

This is a chapter from my latest book called Breezes of Tobago . The cool morning breeze blew the hat off the tourist passing the coffee shop. We sat at the table waiting for our order of coffee and bagels. I had stayed up late writing and was now needing caffeine to stay awake. On entering the veranda of the coffee shop, the sign reads "happiness is a cup of coffee" and "sip your troubles away". This had me thinking about what is happiness? And was the theme of my chat with Chatty as we enjoyed our breakfast in Tobago. I told my friend Chatty that if we could put happiness in a bottle and sell it we would be rich. My friend Chatty then told me that money cannot buy happiness but it was a good idea to make a living. If according to the sign, happiness is a cup of coffee then maybe happiness is coffee in a bottle then. We could call it Caffibean, a taste of the Caribbean in Tobago, a blend of the happiest coffee beans from Tobago. Tobago is not known for its coffee p...

Sandy beaches

This is a chapter from my latest book called Breezes of Tobago . This story begins on a cool Friday evening in May. Fridays are the best days. Already a great start. It had rained earlier in the day and the clouds were moving away and the sun peeking through. I walked from the apartment where I was staying to Pigeon Point beach. Along the way I stopped for coconut water freshly extracted from the nut and straight into my mouth leaving traces on my cotton jersey. They say that coconut water is the drink of God—fresh from the nut, sweet with a hint of salt, a liquid reminder that paradise can exist in small and simple things. They did not say that but my friend Chatty did. It is my friend Chatty's first trip to Tobago. I asked him what he thinks of Tobago so far? He grinned, wiping a drop of coconut water from the corner of his mouth. "Man… it is like stepping into a painting. The air, the colors, the way everything smells after the rain—it is unreal. I did not know paradise cam...