Sunday, September 19, 2010

Take me home.

It's so cloudy today. Some would say gloomy. But it's cold and cloudy and that is what I have learnt to connect happiness with. You won't understand what I want to express. And there's no particular word in English language to represent it and its emptiness makes me feel it more.
I listen to the band performances here,saunter about the huge malls,get happy. Only momentarily.
I recline against a bean bag and look outside the window through the glass while it rains and when I finally decide to open the window,the clouds rush in,the inconvenience seems trivial then.
She has got so much less of everything to offer and so much more to give than I could ever ask for. But she makes me happy with her green hills and her incessant rains and her pine trees that no human could ever provide for me. That's all I ask for. Where else can I walk amidst clouds?
That is where I and Ruskin Bond connect. He feels the same way for Mussorie as I do for Shillong.
Thank you Mr. Bond for writing.

(and a cheesy line: Shillong come to me,if I can't come to thee. That's the best I can ever rhyme.)

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Too jobless.

(Just why do I get spammed by the Chinese? I mean,Indian haters,accepted. But Chinese? I haven't even been mean to them yet!)

Rain in Delhi is amusing. It's like the clouds going through an adolescent phase;throwing tantrums, "Now I want to rain,I will rain bad!"
"Now I don't feel like and now I do! Just leave me alone!"
But I do not quite understand the people when they crave for rain when its sunny and vice versa because>>just-stop-complaining-and-shut-the-fuck-up-human!
It's not a very optimistic situation when Delhi starts stinking and my poor father rings me from miles away asking me to stay indoors because Yamuna has crossed it's danger level. My father's paranoia-moment(s) is hilarious maybe because I am convinced that my amazing life line won't let me die. Not in the floods. Not yet. That is not a graceful way of dying.

They will decorate Delhi for the Commonwealth games but how do they control the stink when it rains? Droopy faces,disappointment and excuses-a lot of it!
But do you not like the dirty slime on your legs? In his legs and her legs when they spread their hands and run before you? Wind and rain. And you walk behind them slowly. You smile. I can hear you smile even if I cannot see you.
*If you did not notice the new template,slap yourself thrice and jump off a cliff.

(Photo credits: Abhilasha Sachan)