Monday morning

The strangest Monday morning. Tapping away on my phone amidst a deluge of impending tasks. Am definitely in a talkative mood. But I am not able to figure out the topic. Not about work or family or anything to do with my friends.

Yes, I can talk about Yoga. 9 years since I started and have come a long way. It has ceased to be an item in my daily routine. It is now a part of me. I am shedding my coloured glasses one by one. I can see more clearly now. I can understand better. All the lines that are said and those unsaid, in seriousness and otherwise. Intentionally & otherwise. Directly & otherwise. The next knot was being judgemental & opinionated. Am working on it.

Where is my paper?


By sheer co-incidence

One thing leads to another. Ended up listening to piano-man by Billy Joels and memories fell like a cascade. Heavy as stale air in a room being opened after ages. Thick coat of dust all around. Everything seems so familiar that I didn’t know which one to open first. Everything seemed to scream for attention. What started as a wisp of interest soon turned into an unbearable sense of heaviness.

One song after another, like a jukebox. I was changing songs before they were half way through. The tune was more familiar than the lyrics. The music was seeping through me and leaving me soaked. Not quite along expected lines at all. Then I started looking at photographs from people I knew and soon it was one song for each person I knew. turned out to be an interesting experiment.

Where is my paper?

Where is it?

I remember a fragility,

Like a word which has emerged…from the depth of the heart….after so long that you almost forgot how it felt. Like a drop of water on your lips…after being parched for days together….after you forgot how it would taste. I forgot how it felt like.

Then it drizzled….