another day in paradise...

sitting by the open window..loving the beautiful breeze..wondering vaguely of an excuse that'd be good enuf to justify venturing out...(at this hour, in this city, no excuse is good enough sweetie - mom would say!) 

so i sit here...sipping coke...maggi for dinner...and enjoying good will hunting on tv!! and all this talk of genius.. honour.. trust...love...faith...getting up, getting out, getting over... 

"so what do you really wanna do?".............are we supposed to know? i know this bunch of people, who are doing well for themselves. the doctors. the chartered accountants. even someone who has found his salvation fairly recently. people who seemed to know what they want. and pursued it. maybe thats a calling. Will Hunting tells Sean he wants to be a shepherd. I know someone who loves the idea of being a farmer (i don't know if she will eventually be one!) i know some super fantastic people who are quitting their jobs, and taking a break. quitting their jobs and joining closer home (in many ways!). shuttling between two jobs. 

"see you bo-peep" - sean (robin williams) says to will (matt damon)... takes me a second to recall that... 

little bo-peep has lost her sheep 

and doesn't know where to find them

leave them alone and they will come home

wagging their tails behind them

does it work like that...little bo-peep here.......very unoriginally, has lost her sheep... and is on her way perhaps to losing her marbles too...(ah, there's the novelty!)

here's the thing with dth that i dont really appreciate -- the pixellated tv experience (if not a complete black out) everytime the weather gods decide to play... and it makes me wonder, is that for a reason? is this supposed to be the big moment of truth - that the weather outside deserves my attention, my time, or the other way around, if you please...that one ought not to be cooped up in their little hearths all the time - come rain, hail or sunshine... i sit here watching tv, microwaving my dinner, smsing a friend and writing a (yes, i know the people who'd take exception to the use of this particular word, but hey...) random note on fb... (and this coming from someone who regards herself as technologically challenged or perhaps, more appropriately, un-inclined (disinclined??))...surely the weather deserved more than that ... [it turned out that eventually the window was shut, the ac was switched on, and one surrendered to sleep, wihout struggle (even as they were showing gandhi on tv)]

tell me, do we all want someone looking at us and telling us - "hey will, all this, all this stuff.. its not your fault"... and you could hug them and cry your heart out... what would make it go away...

is there a way back to innocence, i once asked. "Love." yeah, believe it or not, thats what i was told...

(and we can have that whole conversation about the L word being over rated, under rated, stereotyped, and all of it.. but shall we save that for later... the weather's too good for the cynicism my dear) ... how hard could it be, right? harder than living this way? perhaps...after all there's comfort even in discomfort...a certain kinda discomfort, the familiar one...

...the empty bottle of coke lies abandoned...so does the bowl of maggi (without having made any registration at the taste bud counter) with half a noodle stuck at the bottom, having survived the multiple but futile jabbing of the fork......the movie's just ended, the end credits are rolling now ..surprisingly, the breeze has stayed... so have the thoughts...and their tangent...happiness is a good shower, maybe coffee - not sure hot or cold yet, (OD-ed on chocolate, so that sure aint happening), maybe more tv...or maybe not...a walk on the terrace...may be...

"I would love to be better

I would love to be free

I would love to be perfect

When you look at me"

maybe...maybe not...

home alone

there is something about coming back to an empty house. you let the mess be. the clothes strewn all over. the dishes, unwashed for days now. the mechanical turning of the key - to lock oneself inside. safe, we would like to believe. retracting into the familiarity of the room - with the tv, the air conditioner, the laptop, the bed - nothing you could call yours, and yet all things that you appropriate... you look around, the bed's too big for you. you fill the vacuum with extra pillows that you'd never use, blankets, books that you never read, kevin and bernard - your stuffed 'toys' that have stayed, technology - tv remote, set top box remote, ac remote, cell phone, laptop...you think changing the bed spread, the furniture arrangement would change something. You wish. 

The house is a mess. a dumping ground, the women would say. everything that used to be safely locked, or even stashed behind cupboards and shelves meant only for the private eye is now in full public view. Every horizontal surface has a vertical to it. Nothing's empty. and yet no matter what all you bring in, or bring out, one emptiness will never be filled. it stays. you are only too aware of it. now, you are too tired to run. to even walk. you lie in bed. staring at the ceiling, as the tv plays, through the night...hoping to close your eyes and drift away into thoughtlessness...many sheep, stars, memories and nightmares later, you think you're finally there. you wake up countless times. watch strange scenes play out on the television, and find yourself unable to distinguish between the images on the screen and your own dreams, wakeful dreams. dreamy consciousness. force yourself back to slumber. sometimes it comes easy. the going back where one came from...when there's nothing else waiting for you. it will all go on. they tell you - so will you...the window reflects the fragmented self in the dark of the night. and strangely the hope of morning seems redeeming no longer. 

so one more night it shall be. decadence.