NOT A TYPICAL DAY

This Saturday the 13th of Aug, I went cruising on Edgware Road which is noted for containing within it the famous Church Street Market. If you are not a Londoner, you might be interested to know that the road itself is one of the oldest thoroughfares in Britain, and stretches back to Roman times. It was used by pilgrims in mediaeval times, French Huguenots settled in the 18th century, Arabic communities in the 19th. London's first Indian restaurant opened there in 1810 and Middle Eastern immigrants started putting down their roots in the 1970s. It’s distinct Middle Eastern flavour comes from Lebanese restaurants, shisha cafes and Arabic-themed night clubs. The Odeon cinema was once the location of the biggest screen in London. 

But before you start to yawn with boredom and think that I might go on and on about the history of Edgware Road, I must tell you that this had been a special day for me. Atypical to my normal rituals after waking up where the first thing I’d do would be to trot along the corridor to the kitchen and put the cattle on. Then I have to go to the loo, do my cat-posture, stretch my wrinkles with the bare palm of my hand and finally draw the curtains away to let the pieces of sun into my one bedroom basement.
But today, yes I mean by the time I would post this on my blog it would be the next day, so yesterday when I woke up I had instantly decided that this was going to be one of those days when like a teenage girl I would just do some dilly dallying in Church Street Market hunting for nothing but just enjoy the feeling that I do not need to buy anything. The days are long over where I would go to these attractive places like this one or The Portobello to collect more junk and clutter to my rather peaceful existence and the thought was really liberating. But as soon as I stepped down from my bed, I got  drawn to this lighted screen of my appleMac. There were no urgent e-mails to read or answer to, not much to follow on the twitter and no skyping terror from far away family members. And then as if I had this premonition, my fingertips started to ‘punch’ facebook in google. I clicked to the news feed page and there it was, the cover of my recently published novel Svera Jang with a brand new review from my good old (he is not old in age but young and dynamic) buddy Mark Centrell. I instantly read the review and felt so emotional that tears started to roll down my cheeks like hot embers of gratitude. A blessing for a unknown novelist/poet, a destitute, left on the escape door of consequences, on protuberant limbs, cracked hands with a bleeding heart, a struggling artist! All because I haven’t got the guts to expose my bedroom secrets or the money to craft a diamond skull.......YET....
Read Mark’s review of ‘Svera Jang’: www.goodreads.com
and Tykewrite...
www.guardian.co.uk