Tuesday, January 17, 2023
Sunday, September 28, 2008
One Act, Four Scenes, And Its Watching You.
Prelude:
Behind closed eyes, a radiating white wall. At it's heart, an empty frame is ruffled by a breeze that cannot be felt. As a shadow approaches, the frame settles down. And just as a hand reaches out to touch it, the frame bursts into life...
Scene 1: A Picture Of Life.
It's a bright spring morning. The grass hugging the hillock could not be any greener and full of life. Aves brimming with energy and romance swim the blue oceanic skies. A young blossoming tree provides company to a youngling, who lives his dream of flight with a colorful kite, which indeed reflects the colors of spring around him. He runs around in muted but vigorous animation, trying to make his kite kiss the fairy wisps of cloud that surf the sky. The little joy of spring suddenly stops, and looks over his shoulders...
Scene 2: A Picture Of Promise.
A hot summer afternoon makes the shade conjured by the mature tree an inviting spot for the young couple. Youth is in the air and a lot of life is revolving around the place with the tree being ripe. The couple look perfect for each other, and the muted cuddles and giggles could steal anyone's heart. But there, he drops to his knees holding her hands ever so gently. As he arises to his feet, her pearly tears of joy get their due attention, and she falls into his arms. The two embraced recluses of summer look down with their eyes closed, as if in prayer...
Scene 3: A Picture Of Reflection.
An autumn evening has the hillock covered with russet leaves. The old tree is fast losing it's cover to the strong mocking breeze. The brownish hue painting the hillock makes life difficult to spot. The wind makes puppetry out of the fallen leaves, which were once the pride of the great tree. Of all the noiseless commotion, there are but two motionless figures that catch the eye. A somber cross marks a precious spot on the hillock. And the spot is being watched over by a pair of grave eyes that belong to a man whose silhouette speaks of age. Hunched over a walking stick, he stands there still, unruffled by the taunting autumn breeze. His thoughts are flying, far beyond the bounds of that melancholic hillock, seeking his beloved out. The last rays of the day make him take a coveting look at the setting sun...
Scene 4: A Picture Of Beyond.
A winter night has tucked the hillock in carefully, under a thin layer of snow. The night sky has the hint of a moon, and is dotted with countless orbs. The surreal starry sky carries messages from galaxies far far away the mind yearns to decipher. The starlight echoed off the crystalline blanket now reveals not one, but two crosses on the ground. They still do look made for each other, embraced for eternity. A promise fulfilled. The winter breeze whispers lullabies to the children of time, resting in the mother's cradle. Our tree has not withstood the test of time, but has planted hope through its seeds, that await spring, to fulfill their promise...
Postlude:
The eye opens to greet a starry night sky. We lay on a snow covered hillock, hand in hand...
Behind closed eyes, a radiating white wall. At it's heart, an empty frame is ruffled by a breeze that cannot be felt. As a shadow approaches, the frame settles down. And just as a hand reaches out to touch it, the frame bursts into life...
Scene 1: A Picture Of Life.
It's a bright spring morning. The grass hugging the hillock could not be any greener and full of life. Aves brimming with energy and romance swim the blue oceanic skies. A young blossoming tree provides company to a youngling, who lives his dream of flight with a colorful kite, which indeed reflects the colors of spring around him. He runs around in muted but vigorous animation, trying to make his kite kiss the fairy wisps of cloud that surf the sky. The little joy of spring suddenly stops, and looks over his shoulders...
Scene 2: A Picture Of Promise.
A hot summer afternoon makes the shade conjured by the mature tree an inviting spot for the young couple. Youth is in the air and a lot of life is revolving around the place with the tree being ripe. The couple look perfect for each other, and the muted cuddles and giggles could steal anyone's heart. But there, he drops to his knees holding her hands ever so gently. As he arises to his feet, her pearly tears of joy get their due attention, and she falls into his arms. The two embraced recluses of summer look down with their eyes closed, as if in prayer...
Scene 3: A Picture Of Reflection.
An autumn evening has the hillock covered with russet leaves. The old tree is fast losing it's cover to the strong mocking breeze. The brownish hue painting the hillock makes life difficult to spot. The wind makes puppetry out of the fallen leaves, which were once the pride of the great tree. Of all the noiseless commotion, there are but two motionless figures that catch the eye. A somber cross marks a precious spot on the hillock. And the spot is being watched over by a pair of grave eyes that belong to a man whose silhouette speaks of age. Hunched over a walking stick, he stands there still, unruffled by the taunting autumn breeze. His thoughts are flying, far beyond the bounds of that melancholic hillock, seeking his beloved out. The last rays of the day make him take a coveting look at the setting sun...
Scene 4: A Picture Of Beyond.
A winter night has tucked the hillock in carefully, under a thin layer of snow. The night sky has the hint of a moon, and is dotted with countless orbs. The surreal starry sky carries messages from galaxies far far away the mind yearns to decipher. The starlight echoed off the crystalline blanket now reveals not one, but two crosses on the ground. They still do look made for each other, embraced for eternity. A promise fulfilled. The winter breeze whispers lullabies to the children of time, resting in the mother's cradle. Our tree has not withstood the test of time, but has planted hope through its seeds, that await spring, to fulfill their promise...
Postlude:
The eye opens to greet a starry night sky. We lay on a snow covered hillock, hand in hand...
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Ulti - B'day
It was a pretty mild celebration. Ulti boy was largely unavailable for a much more intricate scheme. Oh, before I forget, I was talking about Ulti boy’s B’day. It’s always been a special occasion in our hostel. Let me just walk you through a little bit of history on this matter. In the first year, when we had just joined the hostel, Ulti boy used to get pulped on anyone’s birthday..! Birthdays are like witch hunts in our hostel by the way! A good 30 strong company would march to the poor soul’s room in the middle of the night to deliver a pretty audible greeting. And by audible I mean, not the voices of the company, rather it was the yelps and horrendous screams of pain from the aforementioned poor soul! But then again, I suppose people did enjoy shining others’ boots on their bottoms in rapid succession, all the good name of birthday bumps!
But Ulti boy was special. He was more of a finishing touch to anyone’s birthday! At one point, things got so bad, that he used to get ‘lifted’ wherever he was seen, even in college. Such was the legacy of this dude. In comparison to those days, this year around was pretty mild. We got a nice tee shirt for him, but didn’t give it to him right away. With the left over wrapper, we flicked his geometry set and neatly wrapped it up. Actually the prank gift looked more compelling and desirable than the actual package! So we geared up for some solid fun.
It was a Saturday night, and the mess is closed for good on Saturdays! Dinner was on the B’day boy and so were the little cute bottles afterward! On the way to the restaurant in the car, we gave him the proxy package and asked him not to open it till we reached the place. It was a long drive to the joint through the infamous city traffic jams. And all along, we were asking him to guess what was inside the beautifully wrapped swanky package. He was no where near. And the best part was that we had hyped it to way over the moon! We could literally see the expectations ooze out of his eyes inside the dim car. Poor chap.
Finally, we reached the dining table through all the chaos the city had to throw at us. And it was time! Shortly after placing the order, he was finally ready. With the remaining three of us giving him those innocent all pleased eyes, he began to unravel the mystery. Just below the shiny gift wrapper was another layer of newspaper. I just wanted to make sure our pleasure lasted as long as possible, even if it were by a few seconds, I know, I’m wicked!
He had only just gotten the paper off, with his eyes all popping out, than was he greeted with the all familiar red glint of his daily desk-mate. I’m guessing that for a fraction of a second there, we had his heart racing. I feel that boys always love gifts that come in neatly wrapped cuboids, and they attach high anticipations to them. And this kid wasn’t an exception. The moment of glory for him did exist, but pity it was just for a few nanoseconds! O the dejection on his face. I was too amused by the unfolding events to notice the curses that flew our way. He couldn’t even pick it up due to the state of shock. I’m presuming all the hype didn’t go to a waste.
Well, in most cases, we would have called off the prank and ended matters. But this was Ulti boy! We were going to rub it in real good. We started to justify our actions, and I’m sure that’s the last thing he had expected. Come on, here is a guy on his birthday, he is in the process of buying us dinner, and he got a lame gift. We were definitely pushing the envelope as far as possible! We stared rambling about the sentimental value of the item, and asked him not to be materialistic. Ha ha.. Cracks me up even now! With every statement we made, came a curse from the other side. It was fun!
Finally dinner was done. Next stop was the near by shop where the bottles were available. Loaded, we trudged to the car. Ulti boy was still reeling from the evening’s events. He started to make open threats as to what may befall us on our B’days. He even said that he had never felt any cheaper in his entire life…! And that was the mission accomplished subtitle for me! Back in the car, the real package flew towards him, and the child like anticipation was back. We asked him not to open it again till we reached hostel. This time, he was understandably suspicious. He had figured that it was some cloth by the feel of it, and was guessing it might be hid own used undergarments. Not blaming him!
Back in the den, he did open the packet and liked what he saw. Half hour and five Foster’s later, we called it a day. B’day of a star of my blog.
Cheers............
Oh wait, did I tell you about his new gold chain…? He looks so ridiculous in it…! All that bling never suited him. Loads of rip-off in store for him for making this ‘expensive’ mistake. haha...
But Ulti boy was special. He was more of a finishing touch to anyone’s birthday! At one point, things got so bad, that he used to get ‘lifted’ wherever he was seen, even in college. Such was the legacy of this dude. In comparison to those days, this year around was pretty mild. We got a nice tee shirt for him, but didn’t give it to him right away. With the left over wrapper, we flicked his geometry set and neatly wrapped it up. Actually the prank gift looked more compelling and desirable than the actual package! So we geared up for some solid fun.
It was a Saturday night, and the mess is closed for good on Saturdays! Dinner was on the B’day boy and so were the little cute bottles afterward! On the way to the restaurant in the car, we gave him the proxy package and asked him not to open it till we reached the place. It was a long drive to the joint through the infamous city traffic jams. And all along, we were asking him to guess what was inside the beautifully wrapped swanky package. He was no where near. And the best part was that we had hyped it to way over the moon! We could literally see the expectations ooze out of his eyes inside the dim car. Poor chap.
Finally, we reached the dining table through all the chaos the city had to throw at us. And it was time! Shortly after placing the order, he was finally ready. With the remaining three of us giving him those innocent all pleased eyes, he began to unravel the mystery. Just below the shiny gift wrapper was another layer of newspaper. I just wanted to make sure our pleasure lasted as long as possible, even if it were by a few seconds, I know, I’m wicked!
He had only just gotten the paper off, with his eyes all popping out, than was he greeted with the all familiar red glint of his daily desk-mate. I’m guessing that for a fraction of a second there, we had his heart racing. I feel that boys always love gifts that come in neatly wrapped cuboids, and they attach high anticipations to them. And this kid wasn’t an exception. The moment of glory for him did exist, but pity it was just for a few nanoseconds! O the dejection on his face. I was too amused by the unfolding events to notice the curses that flew our way. He couldn’t even pick it up due to the state of shock. I’m presuming all the hype didn’t go to a waste.
Well, in most cases, we would have called off the prank and ended matters. But this was Ulti boy! We were going to rub it in real good. We started to justify our actions, and I’m sure that’s the last thing he had expected. Come on, here is a guy on his birthday, he is in the process of buying us dinner, and he got a lame gift. We were definitely pushing the envelope as far as possible! We stared rambling about the sentimental value of the item, and asked him not to be materialistic. Ha ha.. Cracks me up even now! With every statement we made, came a curse from the other side. It was fun!
Finally dinner was done. Next stop was the near by shop where the bottles were available. Loaded, we trudged to the car. Ulti boy was still reeling from the evening’s events. He started to make open threats as to what may befall us on our B’days. He even said that he had never felt any cheaper in his entire life…! And that was the mission accomplished subtitle for me! Back in the car, the real package flew towards him, and the child like anticipation was back. We asked him not to open it again till we reached hostel. This time, he was understandably suspicious. He had figured that it was some cloth by the feel of it, and was guessing it might be hid own used undergarments. Not blaming him!
Back in the den, he did open the packet and liked what he saw. Half hour and five Foster’s later, we called it a day. B’day of a star of my blog.
Cheers............
Oh wait, did I tell you about his new gold chain…? He looks so ridiculous in it…! All that bling never suited him. Loads of rip-off in store for him for making this ‘expensive’ mistake. haha...
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Grow Up Kiddo...!
I remember, back when I was a kid, my parents, tutored me to respect elders. They almost made me feel like they are from another planet, and they are not accustomed to kiddish customs. Just one small badly timed comment in their vicinity would earn me a few, lets see, unpleasant rewards! I'm pretty sure, most of us have had this drilled into us in one way or the other.
When we were in school, the whole class used to whine in chorus whenever we got homeworks, or bad marks in exams, and then get really judgmental on the teacher. Some teachers we universally hated, and some we just loved. Yet, they were elders, and not our kind. Some thing kept us apart, talk in class, don't do your assignments, or involve yourself in some sort of mischief, and you may very well be on your way to corporal punishment, or even worse, a date with the principal - the supremo of their kind.
Now I am in college, and I can say with confidence, we are still kids here! Just today, we were supposed to get the results of a recent test, and turned out the teacher was not generous with the scores. The hallway was rife with dejection, resentment, and huddles discussing the unwelcome attributes of the teacher involved. Another teacher who gave pleasing scores was drawn up for a comparison, and things fell short of forming a fan club for one and a hate club for the other. Still, we were kids there, mischief could get us in to trouble. Though corporal punishment can be ruled out safely, the 'D'ate with the principal again, gets scarier than school days. They were definitely not our kind.
All this took me back to an event in the recent past - a visit to my school, some five years after seeing it last. Some thing was very different, you would know if you have gone to your school after many years. Visiting those classrooms where you have spent more than half your life, reliving every memory that comes out of your mind as a reaction to a bombardment of familiar sights and faces. It was magical. I really loved meeting almost all the teachers that day, no matter who they were. They were visibly older and some were even shocked to see me, taller and looking, well.. all grown up! But there was no barrier. I could probably get away with anything I said that day with probably just a smile and a laugh. No principal to worry about, no notes to the parents to dread. It was great. But was i 'grown up' then?
Just then, I saw one of my former teachers installing discipline into a bunch of eighth graders. I could almost see myself among them. I could predict every word she was saying, including the accent, it was like sown into my brain! And then I imagined what would have been running on the minds of those "kids", and the answers were not far away. I felt a strong urge to meet as many kids as i could and give them gyan about what I had seen so far, but then i restrained myself. Where's the fun if they don't learn it by themselves. Moreover, they most likely would not understand a word of it! I came back that day with a piece of mind i never had before. Suddenly, they were not a totally different kind.
Pulling myself back to the wretched hallway, i realized we were thinking no different than we were kids. There was still the cribbing, and all the complaining. Wondered where i would be a kid again some ten years down the line! Probably in an office, or may be an in-law's house on a comical note!
All this makes me ponder, do people really grow up? And how exactly is growing up defined? Whenever i see a person these days, i spend a moment to see the kid in them. They are all just right there in front of us! All of us smile when we see two small kids quarreling over a trivial issue or push each other around. But then why are things so different when the same thing we behold in the so called grown ups? Every argument, every expression of surprise and wonder, every fight on the street involving grown ups, usually tend to evoke a different response than when we see kids do the same. I feel that people never change throughout their lives. All their childhood attributes stick on tightly, and come out during the right sort of circumstances, be it school, college or a work place.
So should i try and smile away my lecturer the next time she held me up for not doing something..? Yeah Right..!! The next thing i know, i'd probably be on a freaking death march! I guess we are meant to crib. It gives us some amount of comfort that cannot be substituted by other means. After all, aren't we just kids? Theres still lots of time to grow up.
The next time i see someone older than me staring me in the eye and giving an all knowing smile, i am sure i would be like a small kid looking at candy through a glass box, which is not meant to be opened. It's all right there, but yet out of reach. But they are so attractive, shiny and colorful wrappers and all...
Kids will be kids, and they rock...!
When we were in school, the whole class used to whine in chorus whenever we got homeworks, or bad marks in exams, and then get really judgmental on the teacher. Some teachers we universally hated, and some we just loved. Yet, they were elders, and not our kind. Some thing kept us apart, talk in class, don't do your assignments, or involve yourself in some sort of mischief, and you may very well be on your way to corporal punishment, or even worse, a date with the principal - the supremo of their kind.
Now I am in college, and I can say with confidence, we are still kids here! Just today, we were supposed to get the results of a recent test, and turned out the teacher was not generous with the scores. The hallway was rife with dejection, resentment, and huddles discussing the unwelcome attributes of the teacher involved. Another teacher who gave pleasing scores was drawn up for a comparison, and things fell short of forming a fan club for one and a hate club for the other. Still, we were kids there, mischief could get us in to trouble. Though corporal punishment can be ruled out safely, the 'D'ate with the principal again, gets scarier than school days. They were definitely not our kind.
All this took me back to an event in the recent past - a visit to my school, some five years after seeing it last. Some thing was very different, you would know if you have gone to your school after many years. Visiting those classrooms where you have spent more than half your life, reliving every memory that comes out of your mind as a reaction to a bombardment of familiar sights and faces. It was magical. I really loved meeting almost all the teachers that day, no matter who they were. They were visibly older and some were even shocked to see me, taller and looking, well.. all grown up! But there was no barrier. I could probably get away with anything I said that day with probably just a smile and a laugh. No principal to worry about, no notes to the parents to dread. It was great. But was i 'grown up' then?
Just then, I saw one of my former teachers installing discipline into a bunch of eighth graders. I could almost see myself among them. I could predict every word she was saying, including the accent, it was like sown into my brain! And then I imagined what would have been running on the minds of those "kids", and the answers were not far away. I felt a strong urge to meet as many kids as i could and give them gyan about what I had seen so far, but then i restrained myself. Where's the fun if they don't learn it by themselves. Moreover, they most likely would not understand a word of it! I came back that day with a piece of mind i never had before. Suddenly, they were not a totally different kind.
Pulling myself back to the wretched hallway, i realized we were thinking no different than we were kids. There was still the cribbing, and all the complaining. Wondered where i would be a kid again some ten years down the line! Probably in an office, or may be an in-law's house on a comical note!
All this makes me ponder, do people really grow up? And how exactly is growing up defined? Whenever i see a person these days, i spend a moment to see the kid in them. They are all just right there in front of us! All of us smile when we see two small kids quarreling over a trivial issue or push each other around. But then why are things so different when the same thing we behold in the so called grown ups? Every argument, every expression of surprise and wonder, every fight on the street involving grown ups, usually tend to evoke a different response than when we see kids do the same. I feel that people never change throughout their lives. All their childhood attributes stick on tightly, and come out during the right sort of circumstances, be it school, college or a work place.
So should i try and smile away my lecturer the next time she held me up for not doing something..? Yeah Right..!! The next thing i know, i'd probably be on a freaking death march! I guess we are meant to crib. It gives us some amount of comfort that cannot be substituted by other means. After all, aren't we just kids? Theres still lots of time to grow up.
The next time i see someone older than me staring me in the eye and giving an all knowing smile, i am sure i would be like a small kid looking at candy through a glass box, which is not meant to be opened. It's all right there, but yet out of reach. But they are so attractive, shiny and colorful wrappers and all...
Kids will be kids, and they rock...!
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Laundry
internals were scheduled to start from monday..
i finally got myself near a book by saturday...
but then breaking news arrived... internals postponed... cause lecturers assigned election duty.
night 9.30... my roomy and me hit the idea to drive to chennai the next morning.
by 10.. all is set.!!! fuel..money...clothes..
sunday morning we left here by 6.30.. i drove all the way.. awesome drive..!! super road..
was there by 11..was HOT!!!!
plan was to leave monday after lunch...
we saw how bad the heat was.. so left monday morning itself... so in effect we stayed there for like some 19 hrs..
mum was all sad that we left early..
was here by 12 monday afternoon.,. slept..
best part was.. when i was almost near bangalore.. i got a message saying that classes are called off for the week.
cant relay that to home.. ill get pasted..!
before reaching hostel roomy and me stopped at cafe coffee day for some drink..
we were wearing shorts, bathroom slippers and crap tees.. basically looked like rag-pickers.
the place was filled with females..
we summoned up all the courage and put up a "i don give a damn "face and went inside...
forgot to mention the hair... v looked like aliens.. and i haven shaved in a long long time..
had a drink and scooted... when we entered the whole place turned and looked at us..!
was AWESOME..!!! hahahaha....
now on comp.. checking mails an chilling...
moral of the story.... that was the most expensive laundry i have done till date...!!! im so stupid..!
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
My Sunset
I happened to find myself sitting all by my myself on the balcony the other night. The day was sweltering hot and the pleasant breeze on my back was very welcome. I was facing college, towards the field where the fest main stage was put up. A billion thoughts were running in my mind, a perfect evening!
It had been an emotional closing for the fest, and the momentum had not ceased inside of me. I was made to wonder, about everything that I am and everyone I can think of. There are so many people who have played a part in my life. I suddenly felt my life was like a picture of a tree, only that it is a collage of a million hand prints, each that have touched me, with care and purpose. I do marvel at the creator of our existence, such a perfect chaos! Staring into the night sky, pictures of all my loved ones came flashing by, some smiling, some crying, and some stretching out to choke me! The breeze, still soothing me, pushed my thoughts to newer bounds.
I was made to wonder what each person was doing at that moment... and pretty colorful images popped up! I marveled at the complexity of our existence. I saw one dressed up in proper corporate attire putting up a busy show, another presented me the picture of a successful artist, one of them was showing me the way through a forest, I got hellos from a couple of friends abroad, the list was endless. Each of our lives were so different, along so many different paths, yet something knits our lives together. My mind had to offer only a collage of the pictures of all my dearest pals. They were all smiling and well, and that made me happy.
I do hear a lot of people say about life's crossroads, but I had never experienced it until recently. The last night of the fest, during the curtain call was a moment of revelation for me. I had a few good moments of stimulus and reactive thought. The sights and sounds from all around me put me on a quest for answers. I was surrounded by many of my dearest pals, each in their own states of emotional equilibriums. The whole arena was a concoction of emotions. And though my face held up a broad smile, I cannot assure my mind was in agreement. There are very few moments in my life where I was made to ask myself "What now..?", and that evening was one of those moments.
It took me another full day to totally come to grasp what had flown by. And that night on the balcony made me feel like I was watching a movie of our parallel lives. I still had the sticky question ringing in my mind. The question of five years down the line popped up, and I was wondering where each of us would be. There was no dearth of imagination there. But just then, as if to wake my mind up, the breeze pressed against my back. I was made to realize that we can never be away from each other. We breathed the same air, and something made me believe that the breeze that had been keeping me company for the night was caused by the racing thoughts of all my friends. I could only wish for them to enjoy the breeze of my thoughts as well. "The Worlds Is A Small Place" took a whole new meaning for me!
I am living the fabric of my life, of which I form only a small insignificant strand. All my friends make me complete, with colors and and a close knit. And together, we form the sail on the boat to beyond, cradled by the ever faithful breeze toward the never ending sunset.
When you are with me, there shall be no tears, love you all.
It had been an emotional closing for the fest, and the momentum had not ceased inside of me. I was made to wonder, about everything that I am and everyone I can think of. There are so many people who have played a part in my life. I suddenly felt my life was like a picture of a tree, only that it is a collage of a million hand prints, each that have touched me, with care and purpose. I do marvel at the creator of our existence, such a perfect chaos! Staring into the night sky, pictures of all my loved ones came flashing by, some smiling, some crying, and some stretching out to choke me! The breeze, still soothing me, pushed my thoughts to newer bounds.
I was made to wonder what each person was doing at that moment... and pretty colorful images popped up! I marveled at the complexity of our existence. I saw one dressed up in proper corporate attire putting up a busy show, another presented me the picture of a successful artist, one of them was showing me the way through a forest, I got hellos from a couple of friends abroad, the list was endless. Each of our lives were so different, along so many different paths, yet something knits our lives together. My mind had to offer only a collage of the pictures of all my dearest pals. They were all smiling and well, and that made me happy.
I do hear a lot of people say about life's crossroads, but I had never experienced it until recently. The last night of the fest, during the curtain call was a moment of revelation for me. I had a few good moments of stimulus and reactive thought. The sights and sounds from all around me put me on a quest for answers. I was surrounded by many of my dearest pals, each in their own states of emotional equilibriums. The whole arena was a concoction of emotions. And though my face held up a broad smile, I cannot assure my mind was in agreement. There are very few moments in my life where I was made to ask myself "What now..?", and that evening was one of those moments.
It took me another full day to totally come to grasp what had flown by. And that night on the balcony made me feel like I was watching a movie of our parallel lives. I still had the sticky question ringing in my mind. The question of five years down the line popped up, and I was wondering where each of us would be. There was no dearth of imagination there. But just then, as if to wake my mind up, the breeze pressed against my back. I was made to realize that we can never be away from each other. We breathed the same air, and something made me believe that the breeze that had been keeping me company for the night was caused by the racing thoughts of all my friends. I could only wish for them to enjoy the breeze of my thoughts as well. "The Worlds Is A Small Place" took a whole new meaning for me!
I am living the fabric of my life, of which I form only a small insignificant strand. All my friends make me complete, with colors and and a close knit. And together, we form the sail on the boat to beyond, cradled by the ever faithful breeze toward the never ending sunset.
When you are with me, there shall be no tears, love you all.
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