Liquid state of reincarnation

After toying with the idea of what exactly is sacred, i've reached a conclusion today while brushing: Raindrops are indeed sacred. Never mind the air pollution or the depletion of ozone. Every single droplet is a manifestation of ultimate patience followed by altruism. It moves as if it knows what it's up to. Except that it doesn't. Hypnotized by gravity, it goes down only to rise again. And for what? Suicide. And for whom? Strangers. Absolute strangers.

Good days, bad memory

With the Metro up and running in Andheri, the local residents have much to celebrate. Although the first day had its share of chaotic drama, things have gathered pace over the days. Reasons good enough for us to eavesdrop on conversations that take place in the air-conditioned train compartment. Two gentlemen were effusively praising the current prime minister for his promise of bringing ‘acche din’ back. One of  them even went so far as to attribute the very success of metro to the PM, conveniently forgetting that the infrastructure was a laggard work in progress for almost a decade now. Uff!

Free fall

Streets provoked by monsoon come up with stories of their own. Some have grim ones to share while others, happier. However, post-rain scenarios are worth a dekko. At least in our haphazard city. The garbage is soaked. Puddles created out of nowhere. Dogs feeling homeless all over again. Cars failing to hide their glee due to free wash. Kids acting like they'll never grow up. People walking cautiously for a change. Umbrellas up out in the open. The professional municipal road-diggers cursing the clouds. Long queues outside local dispensary. Vegetables rotten and crushed in the market. Fortunately, it rains every single year. Unfortunately, it never pours hard enough to rid the streets off their scum.

Minds and memories

The idea of disappointing her troubles him. So what does our hero do? He ponders. Deeply. About the various possibilities that lay ahead of them. This makes him starkly pessimistic but utterly realistic. Success has been alien to him for the major part of his life. So he goes ahead with the thought "I don't wish to disappoint her...blah bla" and then does what he has to do. At least what he presumes he has to do. Guess what he does. He creates memories. Loads of them. Good, bad, silly, forgettable. But he creates them with her as sincerely as possible. Because at the end of the day, they aren't in a worldly relationship. They don't stick to labels or vice versa. They are what the purists can call soul mates. And they might be mistaken too. What they can't be wrong about are the memories. Besides, you can't add an ex- to memories. Memories flourish whether you like them or not. The thought process involved is almost sacred. Like them. Perhaps why he thinks "I don't want to disappoint her again...blah bla" before going back to her. Repeatedly. 

Kthxbai

A wise old man once said, "You see what you like to see."











Doesn't matter what i write or what you read because we'll never be congruent. Fortunately, it saves me a lot of trouble.

Incontinence

There was this grey cloud filled with water. 

Barely able to contain itself. 

Full of promises as well. 

Monsoon was away and sun, too close. 

The poor thing had no clue. 

Moreover, it dragged along. 

Knowing not where to stop.
Wind flirted with its hopelessness.
It took small steps in return.
All alone.
Floating up in the sky.
Waiting for the right season.
And the correct moment to break loose.

In case you're wondering what happened to the cloud, i don't know. And neither should you.

Unposted letters

Dearest, 
            I wish to be with you for the rest of our lives. I'll stick around till 2236 and you can be around up to... well..as long as you want to.














                                                                                                               That's all.
                                                                                                                  Yours