Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Imaginary Wanderings

Every summer self runs out of the imaginary zen coffee powder in life. Well, if you live in Delhi it is quite pardonable. You of course, need the "soul of Genghis Khan" to survive the Delhi summer. In self's case this is always further complicated by all sorts of work which land up like prompt parcels on self's head. They all are supposed to have been done at some other point of the year. But invariably, they lose their way in strange postal systems and arrive all at once with a thud.

This prompts self to go into elaborate hallucinatory holidays. Writing crap poetry over some dried fish and tea in some remote corner in northeast India, walking through a strange pathway in Bhutan, trekking all the way up some megalomaniac mountain in Himachal, swimming like a fish in a serene pond in Nepal, eating rice in bamboo plates in Cambodia. Since hallucinations never need visa nor money, self manages to do all this while work sits and cribs in a strange high pitched tone.

So, it is officially bad poetry/prose  time.
You live the most when you move.
Every unknown street, nook, bridge, river and mountain has a little bit of chalk to write on your soul.
How unlucky is to die like a blank board.

Love that beautiful line from a corny movie. "Aankhon me hairaniyan leke chalo to pata ho ki tum zinda ho"
"When you walk with surprise in your eyes, then you know that you are truly alive".
May be you should meet life every day with some thing new in your eyes.
When you can't take off like a bird, then may be you can hold a few moments with love-by reading a beautiful story ; through making a bucket list with a good friend; or by letting a beautiful movie land on a torrent tip to lift the bad spell of a mouldy day.

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