interlude

A week ago, I decided to take a small trip back home... It is always a planned trip with calendar marked with all the things to do in those 3-5 days.. It is march, the time of the year when the Northern part of this country play colours, every household is busy making sweet delicacies and air is filled with folk songs and spiritual music. You can see laughing kids on streets, running around with colors in hands, looking for their next prey...no one gets upset or angry and almost everyone has only the set of teeth visible as rest of their face is either pink or blue or a weird shade of green. Every soul on the streets breathe of spirit of this festival, called Holi. Celebrated on the day of full moon this festival calls for wilderness in each being. The nights are usually reserved for post celebration talks, multiple rounds of chai, special food and while staring at a mysterious creature in the mirror the struggle of recalling, what one must have looked like on the same morning... ...

On a sun-kissed March afternoon, as the city worked its way towards monotony, blissfully ignorant of the life passing by, I along with the other souls adopted by this city, was happily keying in my life into random wastefulness of this orchestrated motion. It was just another Thursday morning...twenty minutes spent checking on notes that have arrived from the parallel world over the time when this city sleeps...five minutes in getting the cup of tea to my desk, some ten seconds for plugging my ear-phones and most importantly ten patient minutes spent on picking the right tune for the day...Today, Beethoven is out to set the mood, playing Moonlight Sonata and I am scribbling as the monotony was broken by a visual from the past... ... a vague visual of folksy girl sitting under a tree, reading though the struggles of Bernini, hardships of Michelangelo, creation of David and his intense gaze on her as if he is standing right there mystified by her as she reads through him...