Players in the making

At about 10 in the morning I chanced upon the fact that a girlfriend was in town. In the same place that I was while visiting my parents. I made a call to her. We spoke and haven't stopped since. This hapenned about two months ago. From the sunnyseaside back to the cold plains and lakes I stood here waiting for coldness to transcend into my brains. I was looking for inspiration. I found it in the oddest of things. I found it in words pronounced well, I found it in heated oil, I found it in a clean room, I felt the inspiration looking up at me in a woman's teeth, I felt it smothering me in the elevators. I felt it while holding Frida's book, it came crawling into me while I lay in bed and then some. And while at that I came across poems, the ones that make you want to talk too, for the love of my word that I need you to know.

The friend instantly took reins of my life. She spelled out what I knew, she told me secrets which I had refused to accept. She made my denial into a reality. From then on 60 days of sheer bliss followed. Without a camera at my disposal I began to feel more than I thought I could. And then we began to spin tales in people we care for. Thoughts transgressed between hers and mine. About the audacity of the resilient spirit in women. The foolproof eyes that we hold that make us blind to the ordinary. We grilled each other for answers, for solutions, for varnish to paint away the walls that we build around the heart.

The soul-utions were plenty but they didn't fit us well. So we threw them away. We tiptoed into our worlds and drew the curtains. "Show's over people.", We said.

The games we play, the logistics of any situation, the feelings we intertwine in order to benefit from, are so cruel and so beautiful. The ability to call something daring and cowardly, stressful and relaxing, beautiful and ugly without the yet interfering, is my world. There happens to be no solution and that could be the beauty of the drama that I call life.

Random notes

It's difficult to live in a country which isn't your own. Because you cannot afford to be a fop here for want of good company. So the fop-ishness has to stay within.
Does this mean you can be one in your own? I guess so. It can at least borderline between self-indulgence and being foppy? Does that make sense?

I realized I am a chameleon of sorts today. And all this time when I thought I knew how to play the game- I didn't. I realized I was born during a game.

General discontent prevails today. And I simply cannot savour the life that is mine. In order to avoid further pessimism I should perhaps start talking about the the snow that looked delicious to my eyes.

I met with harmony, regret, soulfulness, agony, apathetic conversations, unending ramblings,disillusionment, simplicity and undescriptive lifestyles all in the course of a week this time. Quite dramatic in its own way.

I leave for Mexico soon. I think that's the place I need to be. Just the desire to melt into the colours and the screams and all that secretionary life.

Syrup

And on that note-

I could be the raw rain that beats against your brow.

I could be the hibiscus that you mince between your hair.

And perhaps the footprints of your feet when you walk home from the beach.

I am the salt you taste when you breathe the sea.

I am the bubble you blow and the shadow that glides away spraying sunshine on your face.

I am your own, I am my own and I don't exist.

I stopped holding the water between my fingers, thanks to you.

Teesta

I want to write so much today till my fingers bleed. But I cannot. The language of my thoughts is jumbled up. I've noticed how nothing affects me anymore and how everything affects me but I can manage to zip it up some how and go on. I was thinking of a post that I wrote with so much intensity recently that I deleted because I didn't want people I knew reading it. It transpired my innermost feelings about a certain incident and my interpretations of it. As I said I am all jumbled up in my thoughts for now. Yet, at that point my decipherence was right. My writing was not in line with my feelings but they left the same message at that point. With less gracefulness I think. I even had a valued opinion of a fellow blogger- Shro.

I was willing to cut off that detail of my life just so that people who read my life would think otherwise. But it all came tumbling down like a pack of playing cards, and the light of the story was out.

I am looking to adopt a little girl. Just in my thoughts. I am searching for a little one who I can name that of a river and show her life. Maybe this ever growing thought within me is a sign- not that I need to be a mother but perhaps a search for the little girl that I was and not anymore. That girl who never made a spelling error and who could hold up against all odds.

Day indulgence

I woke up late today. As always. Its 14.00 now. And am sipping tea and writing. I should have been at school indulging in work coffee and friends. I don't usually regret waking up so late. I am usually thankful to my body for not doing so earlier. For having made me miss the first half of the day. I need to deal with only less now.

But today, while in bed throughout the morning I was painfully aware that I shouldn't be in it. I didnt have any chores to do, nothing in particular that I had to complete, yet the guilt danced in my belly. So I finally woke up and made tea.

Waking up at this hour doesn't hold any meaning to me anymore. As insignificant as it sounds, that phase of mine is over I think. I don't feel jubilant over the world for having done so. While boiling the water, I wished I had opened my eyes at 7.00 and boiled this water. I wished to walk to school in translucent darkness and I wished to sit in the glass box at my school listening to the silence of a few friends moving about. I wished I had woken up early enough to buy coffee from the cafe and run though my mail and make some sketches. I would have felt more important. But now I don't. I usually feel important waking up at two in the afternoon but today I don't.

I have missed out on doing amazing things for 7 hours today.

I doubt if I'll repeat this on a weekday again. I am beginning to feel the mornings to be far more exciting and valuable than evenings now.

I am getting accustomed.