If I stayed too long in 1975, maybe I would forget too soon what the carnation revolution felt like…. opening doors and serving rich white guests as they spilt secrets about a war yet to come. Playing the dutiful role of a lobby boy across these old vintage landmarks.

Come, quick boy! More sugar please! too much powder you think?. Wearing my beret and patching my thoughts and responding just as I had been taught polite but never my true opinion.

It was indeed a perfect system holding coats and tucking in the richest within the society, glamorous evenings standing in the shadows being present yet invincible. This was probably all I could ever be a shadow listening and watching the society build up to a revolution.

But it’s all gone now, isn’t it …. I have no idea where I am today, maybe in politics that much I had learnt about, medicine! perhaps, the war left a lot of broken bones or in Religion playing the role of a comforter and memorizing scriptures that inspire hope, possibly I could be in the grave and all these nothing but memories so hard to forget.