#i dont speak french that well but. i get the gist. and even if you dont understand thats okay its genuinely so funky | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aggresivelyfriendly · 5 years

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Hi all! Here is the next Installment of the little au pair Harry ditty inspired by @papiermachecat, thanks to @chasm2018 for the brainstorming sessions, @emulateharry for the read through, and @dirtystyles and @bleedinglove4h for being my people!

To Be So Lonely

Home Not Alone

"Shhhhh," Victoria told the door as it clicked behind her; she hoped she suppressed her pointed exhalation enough. These were difficult nights, the ones where she thought she'd make it just in time for the twins bedtime, but missed it by just enough to be a distraction. It had been happening more than she'd liked the last month, being late for the routine.

The routine that Harry created with them. Not her.

Was it normal to be jealous of your nanny? Manny?

That was weird, her face screwed up at that. That word didn't need to be gendered.

"Your face might stick like that." The softly accented voice was her third favorite thing to hear when she came into her apartment. After Mateo and Maribel giggling together, the ding of whatever food Harry had ready for her, and way above her kids calling him 'Awwy'. Partially because it was annoying that they said it wrong. Mostly, because it came not long after mama and was said more often. Not that she was keeping count.

Her eyes had closed while she grimaced over her loud entrance. She blinked open and noticed the slight bags under Harry's eyes. She should send him to bed. Mateo had been on a very early kick, which meant she got to see him first thing, but also, that he was very cranky by 7 pm but had to be kept up for an extra half hour to stay on schedule. That half hour felt really, really long. And she only had to do it last Sunday, when the new pattern emerged. Then the work week had come and Harry had taken over. It was Thursday now. That was lots of tiring nights.

Plus the twins had tarted crawling. They moved faster than a two legged creature on four legs should be able to. They also tended to go in separate directions straight into harm's way. Victoria had decided to call a baby proofer this weekend, though Harry claimed to be certified. He didn't have the time.

Who certified baby proofers?

Her hand mopped the hair that had fallen over her forehead. Her weighted lids seemed heavy to open. She was tired too, her wandering mind proof. Victoria finally convinced her eyes to open, it took all her strength. Speaking of baby proofing, the coffee table had been moved again, so they didn't get stuck under it she'd been informed. Maribel had done it right before afternoon nap not too long ago, and she couldn't push up all the way under the mid century design, it had pushed her to her belly, and Victoria figured she had flashbacks to all the tummy time Harry instituted. The fit had been epic, he'd sent her videos. She wondered if Harry rued his tummy time emphasis in that moment. It was responsible for her early crawlers and their baby frustrations, which Harry bore the brunt of. She should buy him ear plugs.

She should get rid of the coffee table. If they started pulling up on that, and god forbid walking into it, she imagined hospital trips, even if it was pushed against the wall. She had a mental flash of someone losing an eye. Coffee tables were useless anyway. When she had a mug, it was in her hands. She'd never wanted it anyway. Her mom had insisted she had one; Victoria had wanted an ottoman.

"They busy today?" She pushed off the wall and walked to the kitchen. Her plate was in the microwave, since it wasn't next to his on the breakfast bar where it was when she made it home in a timely fashion. He waited if he could help it, so they had an excuse to not eat standing up in the kitchen. It was later than she thought, kids should definitely be sleeping well by now. Then why was he whispering?

He answered her raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," he huffed and sat across from her at the breakfast bar. "Bell was really fussy at morning nap, kinda kept Mateo awake, but then he returned the favor later. He was out by 7, but Maribel was unsettled I'd really just got her down when I heard the door click."

"I'm so tempted to wake them both up at the same time tonight." Victoria cut into the chicken. "You stuffed it? How'd you find the time?"

"I got it premade." She nodded. He continued. "I don't see why you dont. Seems like a solid choice with two babies. To change all the nappies and such at the same time?"

"I guess I can't get my mom's 'no molestate, tienen suenos' out of my head." She looked up and immediately started translating.

"I get the gist," he had a nice laugh. Harry was pleasant all together. "But, due respect," clearly tip-toeing over what he thought were dropped eggs. "your mom never had twins." She laughed and it brought out the dimples. She always had a soft spot for those. They inspired trust in her mind. It had gotten her in trouble with clients, because she'd assumed honesty. She assumed nothing these days, but she had trusted Harry and his dependable face straightaway.

He stretched and his sweatshirt lifted to show one of the tatttoos she'd not discovered he had until he rolled up his sleeves to do dishes one day. One day she'd have energy to ask about them. She'd even missed the hand tattoo at the first meeting. She must have been in dire straits. Right now she was too tired to even think about the leaves?

She could sleep standing up at the moment, entirely too tired. Oh, his eyebrows were a question mark.

"She did not, and I should have ignored her benediction months ago. They wake up much less now, and for shorter periods of time." Her forehead felt tight. She should wash up.

"Do you want a glass of wine?" His question interrupted the mental argument she was having with herself about washing her face and doing skincare before laying down on her bed. She'd recently got a new mattress, and it was, frankly, the best thing in the world. But, she passed out the minute she laid down. She had to go do the motions first. Definitely.

Wait, he'd asked her a question. Wine, at this time of night, by herself?

Her question must have been on her face.

"You just look like court was rough. You've been later the last few weeks. It'll relax your temples, drop your shoulders," her deltoids came down at his mention. "And, it may ease you to sleep?"

"New mattress does the work." Victoria exhaled.

"Yeah, I noticed today." He said nonchalantly.

Her brow knit. "You were in my bed?" He never gave her sketch vibes. Weird, that's why you couldn't trust dimples.

His already big eyes were huge, "yeahs sorry! weird,I know. I was super desperate with Mateo, that tooth is really bugging him. and they were keeping each other up, so I separated them. I had to grab wipes from in there, and it...damn. I really have no good explanation." He shrugged. "It looked really inviting."

She laughed. It did, that was purposeful. So she would stay there when her insomnia kicked in or when the babies woke up. Made it was easy to wait the 10 minutes to see if they settled themselves. Slowly stretching that time out would be easier and easier in the sanctuary she'd made the bed a centerpiece of.

He relaxed, "Whew, thought I may lose my job."

"Unemployment sucks, no worries, you're safe."

"I mean, yeah, but I'd miss the twins, and..." He shook his head. He'd need to find a place and he'd be out a job, those were good reasons, but less sweet and more obvious than Harry tended to be. "Anyway, glass of wine?"

What exactly was he offering? With him in the kitchen, or a sad drink in her bed alone? Victoria wasn't sure which. She thought he may have offered her wine last week too. This case must be killing her if her nanny was worried about her.

Should only be a bit longer. She hoped.

"No, but thanks, really Harry. But I think we may both do better with sleep." She smiled

"Another time then." his voice was thin over the distance. She heard it as she headed to her bedchamber.

She clicked on her monitor, though she'd given Harry the farther room, so she could hear the babies through the wall. It made it easier to tell if they were really awake of just stirring. Harry didn't need the monitor or proximity during the day. She let him sleep at night. He didn't make breast milk, and needed the sleep to chase them all day.

She drifted to sleep with the taste of wine in her mouth and a pleasant new smell in her nostrils

🌲🌲🌲🌲

"Vee!" He tried to keep his voice level, and he'd already resorted to a new level of desperate with the voicemail. Who listened to voicemail these days? No one. Except Vee. "Give me a call soon as you get this!"

Actually, she talked on the phone more than any person he knew. Usually, it was for work, or to her mom. But she seemed to talk to old friends from college and Texas, which she referred to like it was a time in her life instead of a place, on the regular.

Her mom, she talked to her mom several times a day he had noticed, usually in Spanish so rapid fire he couldn't even catch the words he knew. Though he really only knew pidgeon French.

He liked hearing her Spanish better, he thought maybe he should learn it, so he could talk to the twins in it.

Without discussing it, they had split up language duties. Victoria only spoke to them in Spanish, he took English. But he was with them when they were awake more.

He knew she secretly hated that, the only times she'd ever really mentioned it, her long hours away, it had to do with Spanish, and how she wished she had more than nights and weekends to teach them.

She wished she had more than nights and weekends with them. He could tell her career had been her baby before the babies. Now she was stuck in the middle, walking a fine line between her own ambition and her desire.

He should help with the Spanish, may kill some mom guilt. If he learned to help her. Or would it induce more? Women were complicated.

But, mental workout over, she talked on the phone, so he was hoping she'd see he called, which he never did, and know to call back.

He was thinking he needed to take Maribel to the emergency room. She'd been a little warm when she woke up, late, and then she just got hotter.

Then she was puking. Mateo seemed to sense he needed to be an angel that day and did just that. He was spinning away in his play saucer while Harry frantically walked his sister while she cried. She had thrown her water on the floor every time he tried to get her to sip on it, and the look she'd given the popsicle, he was surprised it stayed frozen. Wow! Fireball.

He loved it! Except when he had to parent it. Help parent it.

He wondered if Vee looked like that in court?

The popsicle cooled him down, he wished Maribel would try it.

Should he call again? Just bundle the kids into the car? He had all of the things, the insurance and the affidavit, and car seats put in correctly. Except, he felt like if Vee came home to an empty house she would freak.

"Harry?" She sounded distracted, maybe just that bit worried. That shade of gray her voice got "Everything ok?"

"Um, well, yes and no. Maribel has a temp of 103,—"

"Oh my god! Is she ok?"

"She's weepy and tired and she's thrown up a few times-"

"I'm coming home."

"Yeah, yeah, that's a good idea." He heard 'oh my god' and shuffling paper in her background. "But I think we should meet is at the urgent care on Washington? Her fever isn't responding to meds." He tried to keep the worry out of his voice. He wouldn't be concerned, kids got fevers all the time, but for that. The baby had taken the medicine, begrudgingly, over an hour ago, and she was still getting hotter. But, that was a detail he could share with Vee later, after, when everybody was ok. She'd freak out even more that she was about to. And then be consumed with extra guilt, and he didn't want her to feel like that.

He could hear the ding of an elevator.

"I might lose you, I'll call you back."

"I've got to get out of the house—"

"Oh, ok, just text me if you-"

"I'll call you from the car?"

He liked that she sighed in relief. "Please."

"Of course." He went to hang up, but first said "She's gonna be fine, kids get sick all the time."

"How do you know?" Oh, the lawyer voice, he may have overstepped. "You don't have kids."

"Ouch," slipped out and he heard her suck in a breath. "I don't, but I love yours, and this isn't my first nanny gig." He chose not to remind her that he had more experience with kids, on paper, than she did. She hung up then after a soft "yeah."

He frowned, he hadn't meant to incite the lioness. He worried about it for almost an hour while he tried to keep both kids from touching anything in the emergency room.

Her cheeks were flushed when she rushed in the door that opened like theater curtains. He had only seen that color the first week she had insisted on taking running back up. It was like a month in to him working for her. She walked out the door confidently.

"Take it easy, yeah? Your body's been through something," he had suggested gently.

"Pfft, I ran until they induced me." She may have rolled her eyes.

Then she came in like a hurricane popping back over the ocean to get more moisture to dump over a neighboring city. She drank water like it too.

He did not say 'I told you so', he did not need to.

"If you mention going easy, so help me..." She said between her second and third glasses.

He zipped his lips and picked up Mateo. He must need a diaper change by now. Then he had told the little guy how lovely and silly his mum was.

This was a less amusing flush to her cheeks.

Shit! She might have run here.

"Fucking Uber driver." She cursed and he laughed and jokingly covered Maribel's ears. Well he hovered his hands over her ears, she'd fallen asleep. It wasn't restful, but he was not going to disrupt the dribble she had started leaving on his shoulder. Mateo sat on a blanket at his feet. Harry had bracketed it with his legs to keep him within its lines. Luckily, Teo was very interested in the shape sorter that had delighted countless generations, because that floor was infectious. Harry was doing his best to keep the boy off of it.

"What happened with the driver?" He was still chuckling. Her ire was his favorite. Well, after her delight at the babies.

"I told him how I wanted to go, but he said 'Waze and driving all the time say this way.'" And I said, "Fuck waze, I used to walk this in college and this road backs up horribly in the next twenty minutes."

"Did he listen?" He knew the answer, he just wanted her to tell him.

"No! The Puto!" She sat next to him and tucked Mateo's chin and silhouetted Maribel's curls. She exhaled a little bit then. But fussed a little bit more, now for the sake of story telling rather than real frustrations. "And he messed up my rating!"

"Did you cuss at him a lot?" He already knew that answer too.

"Of course! Because I was right and he needed to say it." He knew he was grinning. The little smile that started backwards, with her eyes before it spread to her mouth, when she caught his amusement told him so.

"De la Rosa?" The triage nurse called. And both of their heads swiveled like a meerkat on the plain.

"But, I suppose it was better to wait in traffic than here. I saved myself some drool and energy, sticking you with the babies." She slapped a smile on her face.

"Wasn't" he caught her eye to say.

"I know." And she picked up Mateo and scooped the four corners of the blanket while blazing the trail to the curtained room they were in until 3am.

🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌

"This is weird, yeah?" He asked.

"Listen Goldilocks, you've already been sleeping in my bed, don't act like you're not excited." She must be punch drunk to be teasing him about their kitchen conversation. 4:00 was an ungodly hour by any rights, especially at a pharmacy where the workers are half asleep. Seeing the wrong side of 5 made you desperate, which explained their current arrangement.

Their bodies had formed brackets around Maribel like she was the primary number in their equation. She was. And Mateo. He'd never have been here but for her needing a bit of help with the twins. Maribel had napped on and off during their time at the emergency room. She'd been sleeping best on his or Vee's chest. He'd had to dislodge her from her mum to place her in her car seat. It did not go over well. Maribel had favored them with her best high notes the whole drive home. So Mateo was awake as well. He was easy enough to get down, they just had to get home.

Their steps were slow. He had Teo and she had Mari, it was easy enough to keep the division. They wordlessly agreed to keep them separate. He followed her down the hallway after carelessly leaving everything but the babies and the medicine in the living room.

"Vee." He whispered and motioned with his head to his awkwardly extended hand. She nodded, took the step closer to retrieve the paper packet before leaving him to it at the nursery door.

Teo was tired and Harry only had to dance him a bit before he lay him down.

Harry pressed his hand to the sweet tummy for just a few minutes for good measure, but he was out like a popped bulb.

Harry could hear the fussing as soon as he left the nursery door frame, the closing a soft snick behind him. Maribel was still awake and so overtired her cry was more a pathetic whimper. Or maybe that was Vee's soothing sounds.

"I remember when I used to stay up for 24 hours on purpose!" She whispered when he came near enough to hear. "Do you ever mourn all of the sleep you gave up before?"

"Think I'm still too close to the staying up on purpose phase."

"Ah, I forget how young you are." She pursed her lips and it threw the lines of her face into stark relief in the morning light sneaking through her blinds.

"Hey, I turn 30 soon."

"Oh yes, so grown up." She smiled sleepily and the expression highlighted the 10 years she had on him.

"Let me take her. You worked all day yesterday." He could feel the bleeding heart in his eyes.

"So did you." She reminded him.

"Yeah, but I just had to make two wonderful babes smile and keep them clean and fed. You fought for someone along with the patriarchy."

"The patriarchy?"

He shrugged and shifted the baby over. She let him. "I just imagine you as the only woman standing in the courtroom."

She blinked. "I'm not always." She started rubbing Maribel's back, and the baby's whimper ceased.

"But often enough," he whispered. They looked at each, their eyes going wide moments later when they realized the baby was sleeping. Vee carefully removed her hand and Mari stirred, mewled.

Harry motioned with his chin and she replaced her hand. They stood breathless, rocking in the same slow rhythm for long moments.

"I think she's really out." Vee said after 15 min. "But I'm afraid for you to lay her down."

"I'll lay down with you guys at first?" He raised his brow.

"Yeah, yeah, ok." He could see her desperation, the call of sleep.

"I'll leave soon as I can. You need sleep."

"So do you." She cocked her head to the side.

He ninjaed his way down to the bed and was thankful he'd gone down to his tee shirt and had worn trousers. He hadn't slept in Jeans since undergrad, he was unwilling to take the habit back up. Maribel moved a bit, but she curled her little body into him and got hold of his earlobe like she did when her sleep was gonna get deep.

"She's got my ear." Harry whispered. They'd found it disrupted her when you dislodged her hold.

Vee tightened her face. "Damn, she's got my pinky." She used to do that to Mateo when they shared a blanket. When he rolled away, she always woke up. It occurred to Harry that Maribel was not a good sleeper, now he was tired enough to be grumpy about it. "I think you're stuck here." Vee opened her big brown eyes and looked up at him from her drowsy lashes.

"Yeah, looks like." He tried to inject some regret in his voice.

And that was how they found themselves forming a cocoon around the sprawled out baby whispering across a shared pillow.

"Can you pull more blanket from the side of the bed? I want to pull it down away from her face, but my shoulders are cold." She sighed with closed lids. "I already feel guilty enough she sleeps on her tummy."

"She started that as soon as she could roll over. And we both got more sleep for it." He adjusted the blanket.

"I know," trickled out slowly. "But it makes me worry."

"I know." He brushed her hair off her face where it had fallen before he could catch himself. Her eyes dragged open. "Vee," he caught her ear lobe between his fingers. "Stop worrying, go to sleep."

"Yeah, yeah, stop worrying, he says." She chuckled and he slid his errant touch away without mention. "But sleep, I can do."

Harry woke up hours later. The sun was using all its cold power to push through the wooden slats. The day would be freezing with that amount of sunshine. That had been a news flash when he'd moved here. Sun like that in the winter equaled brr. But his circadian rhythm insisted he also rise and shine.

He didn't want to wake either female in the bed. Maribel had released his earlobe in her rustling, so he was clear there. But the anchor was stronger in the hand laced with his.

Harry was sad to let it go, but he looked back from the door and congratulated himself on not disturbing them. The warmth of his hand, that was anything but upsetting as he set about checking on Teo and cooking breakfast.

It may be cold outside, but they were snug in here.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #to be so lonely #tbsl #home not alone #chapter 1 #or 2 #kinda 2 #please reblog if you enjoy #i adore talking about things too

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vitalmindandbody · 7 years

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Poet’s Pacific paradise: Pablo Neruda’s homes in Chile

As a brand-new cinema about Pablo Neruda gets a UK release, we inspect two of the Pacific-facing dwellings where the poet found inspiration: beachside Isla Negra and the crazy port of Valparaso

If we amble up and down all the stairs of Valparaso well have walked all round “the worlds”. Poet Pablo Neruda was alluding to the cosmopolitan sparkle of Chiles second metropoli, premier port and more romantic and likeable metropolis. He might also ought to have referring to the workout you get hiking around Valpo as neighbourhoods dub it. Spread over 42 mountains, its dwellings, houses, shanties and steep, cobbled roads are a sea-facing sprawling. When you get lost and red-hot, its a aid to stumble on one of the four ascensores funicular hoists which cut out some of the climbing.

chile map

Id been to Valpo before, to ingest ceviche and enjoy fine wines from the nearby Casablanca valley, but this time I chiefly wanted to explore the ties between the city and Chiles Nobel prize-winning poet. A new cinema, Neruda, starring Luis Gnecco and Gael Garca Bernal, goes on general UK release on 7 April. That and a new direct flight this year from Heathrow to Santiago international airport( an hour or so from Valparaso) is bound to revive interest in Chiles second city.

I embarked my mini-pilgrimage 84 km south of Valparaso, at Isla Negra. This is not an island at all, but a lush beach blot where, in 1944, Neruda started constructing a live where he could work on his masterpiece, Canto General, and throw defendants. It took two inventors, with their demanding client admonishing, around 20 years to terminated the members of this house. Neruda passed around Chile and overseas as senator and preceding communist defendant member. He was also exiled for several years in Buenos Aires and Mexico. But, as Neruda placed it: The house impeded originating, like people, like trees.

La Casa de Isla Negra, the poets beachside residence. Image: Alamy

Every 10 instants, up to 14 parties are allowed into his Casa de Isla Negra, which they tour with an audioguide. The commentary is academic in detail and, if inevitably positive about Neruda, still enlightening. The live is a wonder, with rooms embellished according to the writers affections. One living room is determined like a vessel, another like a qualify car. Huge figureheads jut out at every turn, and ships in bottles fill windowsills. Neruda was an avid collector, of bottles, shells, insects, butterflies and, from the appears of his wardrobe, tweed casings, ponchos and hats.

With its ship-like restricted passages and steep staircases, colors paintwork, and mismatched and modernist furniture, the members of this house doesnt seem dated at all. It conjures a Neruda who was playful, fanciful and for a communist a suitor of luxuries. To entertain friends, he had a large forbid improved, and he liked his clients to come in fancy dress, on topics he dictated.

Immature? Maybe, but as Neruda said: The serviceman who does not play has lost the child within him.

Luis Gnecco as Pablo Neruda in a still from the cinema.

Outside the house is Nerudas tomb, and below it a startling bumpy beach. Even on a date of low-toned jazz, surf was disintegrating, turquoise with frothing grey tops, and the light supernatural. I expected a Brazilian dame to take my photo and, unbidden, she poured forth her sentiments for Neruda. Ive been in tears. This is such a mystical region. Ive been wanting to come here for years.

Im not sure any European poet has fairly this gist on people. Nor can her joy be written off as typical of Latin Americans. A little afterward, at the cafe( where Neruda-label wine was on offer ), a neighbourhood dame, when I mentioned my Brazilian friend, witheringly called, Que tontita ! How silly! Neruda fractions mind, particularly in his home person. One local told me at least a third of Chileans are pro-Pinochet, which stimulates them anti-Neruda.

After lunch at a roadside restaurant, it was on to Valparaso to visit Nerudas hilltop house, La Sebastiana( identified after its original owned, Sebastin Collado) where he comprised a big housewarming party in September 1961. Neruda liked to celebrate New Years Eve there and, taking in the view from the top floor, I could understand why. By daylight, you recognize Valpos colourful wooden the homes and shacks collapsing down to the port; by night, they become a multitude of minuscule illuminations, reflecting the Milky Way above.

Pablo Neruda in 1952. Picture: Allstar Picture Library

This less cluttered, more sophisticated live( another good audioguide was plied) shows further backs of Nerudas personality. Antique delineates and artistry, and screens from Asia, tell of his exotic hurtles. A large description of Walt Whitman honours a major influence. Another, of Lord Cochrane, reminds us of Scotlands links with Chiles independence conflicts. An antique merry-go-round pony rekindles “their childrens” again, or the nostalgist. The walls are covered in lively blues and pinks, to realize them dance, according to a song about La Sebastiana.

Sunshine pours into the higher floors, and the eyrie-like tone of his working room his chair discoloured with green ink reminded me of Dylan Thomass shed in Laugharne. Both servicemen were hedonists, womanisers, socially extrovert; both required hideaways to get down to writing.

I appear the tiredness of Santiago, he wrote. I want to find in Valparaso a little house to live and write calmly. It are required to comply with certain conditions. It cant be located too high or too low. It should be solitary but not excessively so.

La Sebastiana, Nerudas house in Valparaiso. Photograph: Alamy

His makes nailed it. La Sebastiana is the eventual metropolitan home: quiet and aloof, but boasting a viewpoint of Valparaso. And its a sociable, colorful plaza, extremely. But, as anyone will tell you, Valpo lacks major museums and other entertainments. As well as being enormous enjoyable and quite inspiring, Nerudas poetic pads are obligatory stops for anyone keen to understand Chile and its recent history. It was at Isla Negra that his poetry and politics came together. It was in La Sebastiana that “hes come to” global renown. The homes speak to their sets, merge with them, reshape them in their window frames.

I love Valparaso, wrote Neruda. Queen of the whole world coasts ,/ True head office of ripples and carries, I love your criminal alleyways.

I loved it very. From La Sebastiana, I obliged my style back to my hotel on foot downhill via corridors and staircases, past walls bursting with street skill, via tiny barrooms and shadow-filled plazas. The crazy port obliged more appreciation now; Neruda did too.

Isla Negra and La Sebastiana are not the only Neruda-linked sites in Chile. Santiagos Bellavista neighbourhood boasts a third house, La Chascona, likewise worth a visit. Neruda was born in Parral, in the wine-growing Maule region, and was put forward in the southern municipality of Temuco( which has a dedicated tread ). As foreign diplomats, he spent time in Mexic, Catalonia, British-ruled Burma( I still hate the English, he wrote ), Ceylon, Java and Singapore. The eventual globetrotting troubadour, Neruda exerts a powerful are calling for travellers. But do go and visit his two favourite seaside lives, and his beloved Valpo. Even if you dont appear youve quite circled countries around the world, youll have seen something of his poetry-filled world.

Ch $7,000 (8. 65) per person per live; audioguides in English, French, German, Portuguese and Spanish. More info at fundacionneruda.org

Neruda is released after UK cinemas on 7 April