Melancholy

Another lazy morning... even the day seemed reluctant to get out of its blanket of clouds. A warm kicthen with a long oakwood table,ladenwith scrambled eggs, freshly baked pancakes and hot coffee seemed like a dream. The heat of the morning chitchat is missing to ignite the hearth. I whiled my morning, rummaging through old photographs,music and cards from friends and family. Have to finish some work before the close of the day, but just cant bring myself to it. Heart seems to be singing to a different tune, unmindful of the time flying past. It seems to have stuck in some place in the past. Almost like an age old mountain,watch moments come, strike a pose, get clicked and go away. Its oblivious of what weathering the time is bringing upon it. It keeps on humming a melody, in repeated loop, as if reminding me of something.Its very disconcerting. I feel too caught up in myself. like an image of me stuck in the mirror.Reason tells me that am already older than the image itself. but i keep staring. almost like a narcissist. As if its going to come to life and talk to me.
Someone will be home soon. To take me back from the illusion of the mirror to the image of his eyes...

Hope

The last leaf put up a valiant show and danced its way to death, to become soil to a new life. And so i put away some experiences, to become lessons for the days to come. Out of the window, i see a bridge,across a chasm, to the other world. A chasm between today and tomorrow,between fall and spring.between dreams and reality. between hope and fulfilment.
I feel like a pod of seeds gone dormant, waiting for the spring to open me up, to the world again. In the midst of silent air, i can hear the song of a sunbird that would call this gray firmament its home again.Among the barren tress of the fall, i can see the colors of the spring. Behind the gray moods of the clouds, i can see the warm summer sunshine. The tress would come to life again and fulfill the promise that the rustle of the falling leaves had whispered into the ears of migrating birds.Till then, i'll keep the fire burning in the furnace, to give me light warmth and cheer.

Am a dreamer

I am a princess living on a solitary island in the sea, in a cast away castle. Everyday, I go to the shore, to collect clams, in the hope of finding a pearl.The people of my kingdom love me, i made it, with blood, sweat and tears. The residents of my kingdom also include some sqirrels that live on the tree, by my bedroom, a cat that makes its trip religiously to my backyard, for the milk that i keep in the pan, some love birds perched on the tree tops in my garden, a family of dogs that lives down the barn.And ofcourse there's a prince who comes riding down a white horse in the evening, and we spend the night star gazing and talking to the moon
trrrn trrrn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
oh that was a dream. Am certainly not a princess.Am an ordinary girl, with the dream of, if not making it big, but atleast finding her own moorings, one day. And my people, i left behind. I have to make a new home now.It was time, you know; to move on. I dont live a castle too. Yes i live in an 800sq ft apt, solitary, in a beautiful complex. amidst nature.
The visitors to my solitude include the newspaper boy, i suppose(i never saw him), who drops in the newspaper, by my doorside, morning after morning. Then there are so many people i see through my living room window and balcony, going by.
And yes, everyday, i visit the deep recesses of my mind, in the hope of that one idea, tht wud change my day.
Oh yes, my price charming, slogs it out, all day long, in front a computer and rides back home by public transport and then our pearl white accord.And he is quite pissed off by then, to go star gazing. Anyway, we live in a city, where you dont see stars and the moon is always playing hide and seek with the clouds.
But wait, what's stopping me from believing, that am not a princess....
No am not supposed to be living in an imaginary world. REALITY CHECK. thats what am supposed to keep on doing time after time, lest i should forget who i am
But what would the world be without dreamers. There would be no story tellers, no poets, no movies and no bloggers!!!!!
If I couldn't imagine, i wont have dreams.What would i be if i didnt have a dream? I would be listless. without purpose. Behind every thing wanted, living and non-living, there was dream. Every child, bought into the world, by the dream of his parent, for a family. Every building raised, by dream of a house or a work station, where dreams find translation. Every machine developed ,by the dream of making life easier. Space conquered, by the dream of knowing all that is there in the universe.
I dare to dream too. and the dream is waiting to be translated into reality.

It rained, for two days.the kind i haven't had the chance to see, in ages. No, it isnt, tht i have been away from my homeland for ages, its just that its not rained like that, in ages. They call it global warming. Skeptics call it conspiracy. I call it lack of joy.I woke up, yesterday, almost half expecting to see puddles of water and water running down the streets in small streams. It was almost like the monsoon rain,not like the not so famous Seattle rain.
I have not felt the rain, skin deep, in such a long time. Like i've not felt tht joy, skin deep. Not even felt any pain so deep. They call it growing up. I call it loss of innocence. You simply stop feeling. All that you feel and remember is a time clock ticking away to tomorrow, and the day after, announcing the arrival of the inevitable future. And reminding of ur race for survival. When was the last time, when i ran, just for the sheer joy of it, and not running to catch a bus, train or a flight...ummm let me think,no cant recall
And I cant recall having soaked in the rain. Havent had the time even to go out and enjoy heaven open its showers for all to bathe. oh yes, i forgot, rain water is no longer suitable , for bathing, coz its acid.
God, is this what we call grown ups' world? lack of feelings, lack of time, lack of space,dimishing avenues of joy and the only thing is excess is feeling of time running out, feeling running under your skin, like blood and wondering if it ever even touches ur heart.

I am a resident of the past.. A preface

Everytime you finish reading a story or watching a movie, you have so much to say, about people, about characters, about story. I wonder when a life's story ends, how much we have to say, to say, about it. And I wonder, how much would god have to say about each life at end of each chapter of ou lives. If only dead could talk..... If only we heard Him speak.Some people write to be rich and famous. Some write for their next generation, some write because they wont know what to do with all that they think and feel. And I also write for myself..... and i'v started writing this blog, after much contention and struggle with my laziness. coz i hope it will reach some people, when i really want to reach out.
Today is supposed to be, no it is, the the 15th of August in the US of A... and 16th already in my homeland. See i told you, am a resident of the past!
Anyway, what a better way of setting free all the mumbo jumbo of my heart,liberating all the ideas and emotions of my heart!