Feeling the Fading Season.

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Dear Readers,
When I return to my 'World Of Small Things', it seems like returning to a cozy abode ,which in my absence,has turned dusty and grey. I can almost breathe in the whiff of staleness. This little space of mine in the digital ocean is truly a bivouac ,where I rest for a while in this battle called life.  Summing up, I hope this post blows the dust off these old pages.

I have not decided any particular direction that my thoughts will follow ,or any point where these words shall terminate. I shall see where my chain of thoughts takes me,for it is truly intriguing to follow undestined paths. That itself is the heart of exploration.

I can see the monsoon season readying to bid adios. It is shedding its final tears of goodbye in sprays ,drizzles,out-pours and bursts. 
Somehow, the rains failed to mesmerize me this year. At one point I thought my capability to enjoy it has been dampened by the harsh real world. But no. This time the rains were almost mechanical, as if nature felt it a drudge to rain upon its backstabbers. The skies were not gloomy enough for me to curl into my cocoon. Spurts of insincere drizzle sometimes frustrated me. But a monsoon without writing would be like an incomplete novel, so here I am.

A week ago, dusted my violin which I had not played for a year. Underneath the dust ,the rosewood was still glistening. The strings had slackened and tightened and were completely out of tune. After some tuning, I gazed out into the horizon and started playing. The feeling was powerful. In a few minutes my stiff fingers loosened and was under the command of the music which had been shaken from a year long sleep. The worn marks on the wood reminded me of the time when i used to go for violin classes with my mother. I had joined a day before her and I still remember making that point felt by childishly showing off the tracks I had learnt to my mother at the end of the day. Those indeed were good days.



Yesterday night saw the close of this years 'onam' celebrations. The television was full of colours. Movie marathons filled the screens. Dancers gracefully moved in swift and defined steps to traditional tunes. Flowers shone bright . Cooking shows were all busy in preparing the traditional feast. Celebrities were scattered from channel to channel in plentiful numbers and advertisements blared offers ,discounts and reductions in vain. Although I never get engrossed in any celebration, the vibe does certainly set the environment abuzz.

To the amazement of many people, I do not like to step out much. I certainly am not an expert in conversation. Most of the time, strolls in buzzing streets set my mood off. My room and my beloved window fascinate me. The view through my window which may just seem like marsh land ,fascinate me. Painting pleases me more than stepping out. Reading, writing etc seem more magical to me than frivolous outings. Because after spending my day in the huge world out there , my world of small things is where I find retreat.

I recently switched to an old blackberry phone when the more sophisticated gadget started to rot my mind with boredom. The effect shocked me. When I disconnected from the so called 'essential' part of modern life, I felt I could connect to myself. After all,the brain is known to be poor at multitasking.

The night sky is dulled by uninvited clouds of grey. This chain of thoughts has found its end. The destination is satisfying.

I leave my bivouac till the next post.

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