I seem to have forgotten how to write about nothing - the great wide expanses of absence. Why must everything be something? Have meaning? Fall into line? Be coherent? I've beaten myself silly about not categorising thoughts inside the margins of my journals because they need to go into an essay, a piece somewhere, a... Continue Reading →
There is something heart-warming about a letter in the mail. No, not those kinds that deflect their cowardice on you for some sort of self-importance. (Yes, you. I’m talking to you. You’re on my blog. Happy much?) Going back to the part about the letter in the mail. I use email quite a bit, and... Continue Reading →
..to the day that was full, brimming, and wholesome. The heart wishes that one could write more, and tired mind escapes expressions that it could otherwise easily catch. But as this day comes to a close, the heart can't describe feelings to lends words that the mind can match. One of those days that should be multiplied, and... Continue Reading →
So far, this year has been grand. I got out of jail, fell in love again, and planted daisies in my backyard. No, seriously. After the post about forecasting, I have been working on what the future should look like and so far I have managed to come up with a sketch that may be... Continue Reading →
One of the simple pleasures in life is a good sleep. Some of the others that I would write on my list of simple pleasures are a solitary walk, watching the rain from the inside, silence, swinging on a swing, and a window seat on a train. Some other pleasures that may not be as... Continue Reading →
Yesterday, I met an Irish woman who is on a visit to India. She's actually spending time in Goa but dropped in to see the city. Alone. Her friend didn't want to leave Baga beach I was told. We spoke a little, of cities, of people in cities, of people staring at tourists in cities,... Continue Reading →
Because it matters to say thank you. Because it matters to say that it means something. Because the universe needs to know it is cherished. That I am grateful. Because I can read those poems Dickinson wrote and copy them neatly in blue ink on black ruled lines in diaries I kept during school. Because... Continue Reading →
I've been meaning to write about the driver of my office bus for a long time now. He deserves a mention somewhere, and since I have a blog, I should mention him here. I've been traveling by the office bus for over 2 years now. The driver who I'm mentioning here was recruited (I guess)... Continue Reading →
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