and the weather reflects my moods. so often. when i'm bursting with emotion it turns to torrid rain. when i don't know where i'm headed, or who i am, half the night sky was dark purple grey. and half was clear and light. weightless. the purple grey slowly advanced to conquer the sky. but it took all night. it knocked on my window with very slight rain. telling me something. echoing something within me. it did not sleep either. nor did it fall.

and since morning its been overcast and waiting. intermittently letting off what's beyond what it can hold. and now and then it smiled with some sunshine. it may look like calm, but its indecision. its lost. its tired. its helpless.

morning

what do people mean by "sleep over it"? why do some hours of darkness and semi(or un)-consciousness make a difference? does my mind lose some continuity in those hours? is every morning really a new beginning? what is with it???

or maybe its dreams, those you remember and those you don't and those that leave you just with random visions that make sense. that communicate to this you, this awake you. communication from somewhere deep within yourself, somewhere far away beyond your control, beyond regular access. or maybe i'm reading too much into this. maybe nights just hypnotize the mind into a belief of an end. and when the eyes re-open they search for a lead, for a cue, for a push to a start.

"cloudless every day you fall
upon my waking eyes
inviting and inciting me to rise.
and through the window in the wall
come streaming in on sunlight wings
a million bright ambassadors of morning.."

trust and fidelity are not constrained to the context of sex. for the nth time the realization dawns.

i was right, it was inertia. and like everything else it comes to an end.

found him right in front of my apartment in the morning sun at 7:30AM. I despise summer in this place, but sometimes I have to admit, it does have a surprising charm.

touch wood

being human, i often notice the green grass far away. often think some ppl have had all the goodies. but once in a while, some stories heard, make me stop and think. and smile and treasure the people i've known. the people i have in my life. not quantity but quality. the ones who make you close your eyes and smile and send a quiet thanks to the (questionable) creator.

coming from small towns and segregated gender-wise from society my age, in general till teen age and even after, i always had trouble with friendships with the opposite sex. was all fun and comfort with a crowd but could never really single out a guy and be real friends alone. till the time that it happened and the friend insisted he was something more. i let him have his way cos even i was having trouble stopping him there.

since then men ceased to be 'the opposite sex' to me. it was sex that became irrelevant in that phrase with anyone else, therefore rendering the phrase useless. men were people, just like women were..? not quite, though. they are often easier companions and conversationalists than the fairer sex. so now i had the friends i had never been comfortable to have had before. and yet there was a limit to the intimacy and the exclusivity of such friendships. they were still better in crowds, although not impossible alone. the one or two who were thick and good alone, often made me feel guilty imagining they were falling for me. and there must have been something to suggest this to my imagination. and QED, because these don't last. distances usually kill these because it gives the guy the opportunity to rid himself of the habit of me.

but once in a lifetime does a friend like you come along. and it doesn't get affected by how long it will last. not even when while you decide on that one wish to use when blowing that candle in front of you, you look me in the eye and give me the illusion that you are wishing for us to be known to each other forever. a friendship like yours which illustrates the true meaning of Platonic-ism: not the non-existence of attraction, but rather the conscious realization that there is something higher than sex here which can at no cost be sacrificed to physical attraction. a super-physical connection of being known through aeons. an empathy, a tenderness, a comfort, a take-for-grantedness, like "i am bored and i hate the world, so i walked in here" and "i always have time for you". and the affectionate teasing like "you are spending the only 15 mins you have free in the day with me, i am honored".

not everyone gets what i have. all that i have..

kalyuga

the problem with India is that people are comfortable living below their moral ideals. that they comfortably look into the mirrors everyday without looking themselves in the eyes. its not just the politicians, because they are just mirrors reflecting the general people of the country. in fact they are the general people of the country. the problem is them just as it is us, you me, our parents, all of us. and its an old problem. and its hard to accept, because there has always been denial against it. and for those some who admit to it, there's been hope against it...

Mulk Raj Anand in 1975 quoted a judge regarding an inquiry into the riots in Bhiwandi, Jalgaon, and Mahad (Maharashtra)

"It was a lonely, arduous and weary journey through a land of hatred and violence, of prejudice and perjury. The encounters on the way were with men without compassion, lusting for the blood of their fellowmen, with politicians who traficked in communal hatred and religious fanaticism, with local leaders who sought power by sowing disunity and bitterness, with police officers and policemen who were unworthy of their uniform, with investigating officers without honour, and without scruples, with men committed to falsehood and wedded to fraud and with dealers in mayhem and murder."

and then MRA comments on above quote with "That even one man speaks like this, encourages one to hope."

the problem with India is that people are wedded either to falsehood, or to hope. too many of us survive on threadbare hope, hope without action, threadbare enough to be unable to support so many of us..