i am in a middle of some kinda fog... and all i see currently is melange of lot of technicolor dreams/nightmares shape-shifting realities..... opal skies, dew wet grass, gray phantasms, shooting stars... on the edge of very high cliff, free fall... ice cold... hell fire...
once again...


am blabbering!

wonder why, things like candle-lights, enigma, yo yo ma, scorpions, nirvana, dark chocolate, flock of geese across the sky, clear blue sky or vermilion sky, rains and after rain look, warm shower, zero watt orange light .... always manage to connect... the inexplicable soul connection???

i feel a lump in my throat unbidden and ridiculous, hormones riding like wild horses across the dunes of my heart...

am fluctuating between being a basket-case and on hot air balloon... inexplicable again

between moments and lifetimes, am getting moody... and dude, am i handling it well? oh, you bet! the family, the people i love and live with... has no inkling and is spared the trouble

from not being allowed even a bus seat to tyra banks to 20th Jan, 2009, 12:00 noon!!

"... today, we need to pick ourselves up and dust ourselves off... "... mr.obama, you rock... !

edit: winds of change


love, love me do!

“It is one of life’s bitterest truths that bedtime so often arrives just when things are really getting interesting.” ~Lemony Snicket

Morning gathers up on the glass like blue and white fuzz; fog hangs pointedly against the dusty rosy pale of dawn. Day has come too soon all week. I breathe in and my breath catches the sharp cold air, the room temperature control has given up sometime during the night. My limbs uncoil and the ligaments all are taut. Awareness scattering like chickadees and then narrowing back in towards the oval blue of quiet thought. A treat of sorts for the insomniac in me!

Then I’m bundle of helter-skelter around the house, finishing the chore and willing this thin frame against the cold. We’ve had a lot of cold draft of wind and it seems like a miracle that it does not snow here. The whole jagged edge of the city is lit with the bright gold of day, fog slowly vanished like a conjurer’s trick and the pale sky stretches up and up and up above it, the clouds like discarded garments hanging tattered at the cusp where world meets air.

I’m like a dancer now or a magician, the multi tasking never stops. I’m bending to lift a tea cup while listening to office story about a deal that should have come, am busy with the laundry while answering a question about where that particular shade of grey tie is kept and then am taking an official conf call while dusting around the house. My mind becomes pocketed, punctuated, and perceptive. I am no longer aware of my breath or the back pain that began as tingle but now is demanding full attention.

If I stand still I can almost feel it vibrating. I crave solitude, but something else needs attention. I make tea and we sit down to sip it… together.

Life post marriage, life post willingly accepting someone, with all the fanfare, into your life is both weird and wonderful. “And, it gets weirder and weirder”. It seems like a long play and everyone seems to forgotten to rehearse the end at all… and the curtain never seems to go down.

In the dark I spoon around him. His wide shoulders and the curve of his back almost a part of my body’s own geography when we sleep. Our hearts following the same quite choreography of breath

We heat drinking water, hang a heat lamp, wrap insulation over ourselves and generally go on living the honeymoon. The extended and the un-clich├ęd one! No exotic locales or overdone romantic setups. Just a plain simple, at home, making a home – honeymoon! And, trust me this rocks! And, yes I definitely love the classic things but the un-classic sometimes is so in.

Amidst the crowded days and overflowing moments of new avatar; I can still see the glimpse of my old life; through some translucent veil. And, am caught in the wanderlust of them; I miss them not in some sad melancholy but more like an after taste of tiramisu!

My sis and my brother! The name calling and the fight and the getting up in the afternoon and chatting till wee hours of morning and dozens of cups of coffee and the match-point of grey cells.

The sunset is beautiful here, actually the sunset is beautiful any where; in fact the sun is beautiful – both in its full morning glory and the lights out sensuality! Am trying to be it. This Calendar Year, that’s my wish. Just be.

On the terrace, I sit and watch the sun vermillion red – perfect globe and birds. House Sparrows, Cardinals, nuthatches, jays, woodpeckers even. Fighting for the fallen seed, grackles come with iridescent speckled backs. The air is now one of receding warmth and smells like wet grass and wood smoke.

I still manage to sneak in, some quickie with my books and this space here. Too much to catch up, too much happening … and me, like in a music video, am standing still right now… in my mind. Trying to train it to silence, to empty it … to fill again with something else and this time around… there would only be space for magic and god.

Have a Blessed 2009, Cyberverse!