{"id":24935,"date":"2023-05-13T10:30:28","date_gmt":"2023-05-13T07:30:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/?p=24935"},"modified":"2023-05-13T10:30:40","modified_gmt":"2023-05-13T07:30:40","slug":"de-ziua-dorului","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/de-ziua-dorului\/","title":{"rendered":"De ziua dorului"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Azi m-am trezit s\u0103 aflu c\u0103 e ziua dorului. Un sentiment dulce-acri\u0219or de nostalgie, care ne \u00eembl\u00e2nze\u0219te, ne umanizeaz\u0103, ne transport\u0103 \u00eenapoi \u00een trecut, Ratatouille-style. Apropo de Ratatouille-style, ieri am \u00eencercat o shaorma nou\u0103 \u00een shopul unui domn turc. Delicioas\u0103. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u0218i zic eu: <\/p>\n\n\n\n

-Mai \u021bine\u021bi minte secven\u021ba din Ratatouille c\u00e2nd criticul de film este teleportat \u00eenapoi p\u00e2n\u0103 \u00een casa p\u0103rinteasc\u0103 de la sat, \u00een copil\u0103rie? Pe mine shaorma asta m-a teleportat \u00eenapoi \u00een 2009, \u00een Dristor. Am \u0219i auzit un sunet discret acompaniator de manea din prima ma\u0219in\u0103 cu boxele date la maximum. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dar s\u0103 nu divag\u0103m. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

E fals\u0103 afirma\u021bia c\u0103 dorul ar fi intraductibil. \u00cen englez\u0103 exist\u0103 chiar trei termeni, fiecare pentru o nuan\u021b\u0103 specific\u0103 a cuv\u00e2ntului. “Longing” e visatul dup\u0103 ceva ce nu mai po\u0163i avea. “Yearning” e visatul dup\u0103 ceva ce nu mai po\u0163i avea, cu un substrat mai dens de sf\u00e2\u015fiere sufleteasc\u0103. “Craving” e c\u00e2nd t\u00e2nje\u015fti la ceva ce po\u0163i ob\u0163ine, dar nu chiar acum \u00een acest moment, \u015fi faptul c\u0103 nu se poate chiar acum te face s\u0103 ragi pe interior. Gen pofta turbat\u0103 de ciocolat\u0103 la zece minute dup\u0103 ce a \u00eenchis Carrefour-ul la tine pe strad\u0103. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Sehnsucht” al germanilor e o stare de t\u00e2njire at\u00e2t de intens\u0103, \u00eenc\u00e2t s-a deplasat \u015fi \u00een filosofie, ca melancolie dup\u0103 tot ce e imperfect sau e\u015fuat. Iar “saudade” al portughezilor e o veritabil\u0103 institu\u0163ie cultural-muzical-poetic\u0103. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ce face dorul s\u0103 fie special? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pl\u0103cerea pe care o reg\u0103se\u015fti \u00een suferin\u0163\u0103. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mie, de exemplu, mi-e dor de bunicii din partea mamei. Singurii oameni s\u0103n\u0103to\u015fi cu capul dintr-o familie 100% instabil\u0103 din toate punctele de vedere. Oamenii \u0103\u015ftia mi-au fost repere de via\u0163\u0103, de cum s\u0103 te bucuri de lucruri m\u0103runte, de cum s\u0103 z\u00e2mbe\u015fti \u00een fa\u0163a unei farfurii de ciorb\u0103 aburind\u0103, chiar dac\u0103 ziua ta nu a fost cea mai bun\u0103, cum s\u0103 te respec\u0163i pe tine, ca s\u0103 te respecte \u015fi al\u0163ii \u015fi cum s\u0103 fii om, dac\u0103 ai preten\u0163ia ca al\u0163ii s\u0103 fie oameni cu tine. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Am c\u00e2teodat\u0103 vise \u00een care sunt \u00een buc\u0103t\u0103ria lor, m\u00e2nc\u0103m cartofi cop\u0163i la cuptor cu unt \u015fi br\u00e2nz\u0103 – mai organiza bunic\u0103-mea o sear\u0103 de copt cartofi, \u015fi povestim despre de toate \u015fi despre nimic, cum f\u0103ceam pe atunci. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aveam o vecin\u0103 haioas\u0103, mereu pus\u0103 pe glume, care pretindea c\u0103 \u015ftie s\u0103 citeasc\u0103 \u00een cafea. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eu aveam \u015fase ani, dar m\u0103 \u00eendr\u0103gosteam la c\u00e2teva zile de altcineva, c\u0103 eram sufle\u0163el alunecos \u015fi inimioar\u0103 zburdalnic\u0103 de mic\u0103 – c\u00e2nd e\u015fti mare numa’ te joci – \u015fi tot a\u015fteptam s\u0103-mi zic\u0103 din cafea c\u0103 fug \u00een lume cu iubirea vie\u0163ii mele. Dar nu, \u00eemi zicea doar c\u0103 o s\u0103 \u00eenv\u0103\u0163 bine, c\u0103 o s\u0103 iau note mari \u015fi o s\u0103 fiu cuminte. How very boring. “\u015ei de dragoste nimic?” “Las\u0103, c\u0103 de dragoste o s\u0103 ai timp dup\u0103 ce cre\u015fti, a\u015fa zice \u00een cea\u015fc\u0103.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mi-e dor de aceast\u0103 etap\u0103 a copil\u0103riei mele \u015fi \u00eencerc mereu s-o recreez cu oamenii pe care \u00eei am \u00een jur, pentru c\u0103 instinctiv m\u0103 orientez spre oameni bonomi \u015fi veseli, ca bunicii mei \u015fi prietenii lor din bloc. Bunicii mei nu mai tr\u0103iesc, dar dorul meu de ei \u00eei readuce la via\u0163\u0103. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

De aceea exist\u0103 o latur\u0103 frumoas\u0103 a dorului. Faptul c\u0103, de\u015fi nu \u00eei mai avem \u00een jur pe oamenii care ne-au f\u0103cut via\u0163a frumoas\u0103, \u00eei putem recrea din memorie, aproape la fel de intens de parc\u0103 ne-ar fi al\u0103turi. Putem s\u0103-i proiect\u0103m, putem s\u0103 convers\u0103m cu ei, putem s\u0103 sim\u0163im textura cartofului copt la cuptor \u015fi textura cremoas\u0103 a untului de \u0163ar\u0103 luat de la o vecin\u0103 care avea pile pe la sat \u015fi aducea unt galben \u015fi gros ca ceara. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dorul e singura durere infuzat\u0103 de bucurie din via\u0163a noastr\u0103. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Acest site \u00ee\u015fi poate continua activitatea doar cu sus\u0163inerea cititorilor. Aici<\/strong><\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

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Vrei s\u0103 m\u0103 urm\u0103re\u015fti \u00een social media? \u00cemi po\u0163i da like pe Facebook<\/strong><\/a>, follow pe Twitter<\/a><\/strong> \u015fi Instagram<\/a><\/strong>, subscribe pe YouTube<\/a><\/strong> \u015fi pe TikTok<\/a><\/strong>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Azi m-am trezit s\u0103 aflu c\u0103 e ziua dorului. Un sentiment dulce-acri\u0219or de nostalgie, care ne \u00eembl\u00e2nze\u0219te, ne umanizeaz\u0103, ne transport\u0103 \u00eenapoi \u00een trecut,...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":24936,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-24935","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-spicy"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/05\/lorenalupu.jpg?fit=1080%2C893&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24935","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24935"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24935\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24938,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24935\/revisions\/24938"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/24936"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24935"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24935"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24935"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}