I need to read diverse and travel more.

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after years!!!!..

For the past couple of days or weeks.. or in fact months, I had been feeling restless. Things in life sometimes go my way, sometimes don't. Sometimes I like what is happening, sometimes I don't. I let myself ebb & flow in such situations because somewhere I know such things are bound to happen and part of life/growing/learning. Then suddenly a strange feeling began to creep in. I think this is how my mind is. Even when everything is seemingly perfect, I find a way to discover things that I'm missing or things I "might be" missing but am not aware of. I think I haven't been able to put it properly but it's something like that. So I "analyzed" my life. All right, I've been an analyst, this is what I'm supposed to be best at doing. I tried to understand and differentiate between which things I love, like, dislike or hate in my life. To my relief, there was almost nothing that I could classify into the last category. (just noted the ...
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An Evening's Impressions

On an evening like this, quiet, Soft, smooth and scarlet hanging flabbily out of the blueprints of a humdrum day of early summers Dirty as I roved in the porch watching blue herons serenading on the green branches of the Mango tree, the thought that clicked me first wasn’t of yesterday’s memories, or today’s accomplishments or tomorrow’s clear-cut charts or of the meadows full of green rain-soaked grass with heaps of moss gleaming in moonlight, or of where the stars hide in the day but of an ordinary world with ordinary things. It seemed the perfect moment to say a good-bye to this hyperbolized world and its gaudy lights and intemperate facades and to return into the lanes of a wrinkle-free world full of geese and swans. fairy tales slipping out of the pockets and memories from childhood taking form of sounds and noises, into aimless ramblings of the dreams and the magic-filled nights, which followed the motion of the stars and eavesdropped the silent whispers that the gasping earth ma...
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Well..

Suddenly I’ve this intense urge to write something, to write; I miss writing I think. I think it was a lot easier when I was a kid; I used to experience something and always wanted to document it, give it some form of words; immortalise the feeling through words. Now I think I am just fine internalising a lot of things, experiencing them, revisiting more in  my mind than through words, and don’t want to immortalise but rather keep it momentary or time bound. Well whatever it is, the conundrum of things remains as is; and I remain as perplexed and bewildered as always. Just that I say less and absorb more. Feel more and talk less. Visit, revisit but there’s still an  urge to write. Ok, I have to have dinner now. 
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