How swiftly the cocoon of memories created wafts away as one reaches home…..you try holding onto a steady stream of conscious thought desperate in your desire to still belong…all it takes is one ring of the phone to remind you of being back. And soon familiar sights of the haven known lull you into their illusion of being well….but you do know some part of your soul now lies scattered over the myriad waters blue and a setting woebegone sun.
Only the bent blades of grass to remind you of where you’ve been all along.
Morning turned to a night’s fall
life waltzed in and about
music was heard in a far play ground
as i read my coffee and stars abound
From the tales of a gypsy at kumarakom
You…you aren’t perfect but then nor am I. I suppose that in itself must count for something? And if at all I was looking for a sign from the universes combined i’d say tis kismet that got us aligned. I send you my love across time and I harbour no hopes of you being mine but perhaps you shall buy me coffee when you see me next?
My love for all things flawed including me above all ….reflections over a lotus pond@ kumarakom
Woke up to the incessant chatter of birds ….well my lovelies I hopes breakfast was good coz mine will have to wait ….. It rains now ….and I am on my third cup of cardamom tea. I like the rains in kumarakom, they are as moody as I am and often make an appearance when ummm none is called for …. But I like their hurried departure even more …. leaving everything soaked with infinite goodness and cheer.
Kumarakom where the gods smile ever so often….
Ever looked back at a journey taken many moons ago and one which you are repeating again? Ever wondered how naive you were then and how silly your fears still are? Ever thought of how you could go back in time and change a few things and predict what was to come? Ever wondered that the trees looked so tall and I so small but now it’s all tame? Ever wondered how strangers would go on to become friends and some friends to fall?
On the way to kumarakom and all that was..is
Poppadom’s here was ambling along on his way home trying to make it in time for lunch…. he didn’t even give me a chance to offer him a chilled beer
It’s the kind of dawn that seeps in slow, filling all crevices with light and life. I venture out taking in huge lungfuls of fresh air …. to life, to love and to the back waters and the small fishing village of kumarakom.
It’s a slow start to the day and as is must its always tea time … The day ahead looks relaxed as I unwind from the week that was…. woke up rather late …. the Flying Dutchmen were wonderful to watch …. poppy seeds and I rooted like crazy …. haven’t missed watching a match since I got hooked in 1992…takes me back to the bylanes of kormnagala and the hurried coffee ….making it back just in time to watch the match