World of Small Things

Dear  Readers, I'm waiting for an old friend. I've been waiting for a while. It seems that this comrade of mine doesn't reciprocate the fierce eagerness that I have to meet him. I don't remember his face too clearly.Like the radiant full moon disappearing behind enigmatic night clouds, my pal's face had faded from my memories. I think everyone's mind has an attic. Memories,like fresh,glistening photographs, Polaroids and films, flutter and settle in the attic ,until they turn into the sweet colour of sepia. Sometimes they float down clumsily from the lofty tops of sepia skyscrapers;like dried scarlet leaves from stiff autumn trees,making me fly into a furious,but silent and pleasant fit of nostalgia. I've compiled the most precious items from my 'attic' into this infinite book of  intangible pages.  Clouds whiz by me,reminding me that I was several thousand feet in the air,in a frugal,aquiline airplane. We duck and swerve below the cottony fl...

"I am too fond of the stars to be afraid of the darkness"..... Dear Readers. A warm feeling of homecoming overwhelms me when I address you. I was turning the non existent pages, that so appropriately arranges the random thoughts that rain down from the tempestous abysses of my mind.I rewind to my last post - 'Kaleidoscope'. I find it amusing how our minds are so much similar to the quaint device.We keep turning a kaleidoscope and when and stop only when we see an unusually attractive pattern ignites our fascination.Similar to that, we keep tossing and turning our mind our efforts give rise to a thought that sets our imagination ablaze. It is at moments like those when I come to my blog to spill these thoughts,to prevent them from diminishing into mere fading reminiscences. As I sit in the balcony,the dusk is slowly dying ,bleeding darkness.The last of the light was scattered in the sky. A scarlet and lilac hue now took over. I heard thunder in the distan...

Dear Readers, Here I return to dispense my thoughts into this pixelated pensieve. I return as the bud of a new year starts to bloom into a thorny,blood red rose. As I write,the Orion in the velvety night sky points his arrow at a target beyond the comprehension and perception of mortals. The beautifully arranged stars somehow beam hope. Gives me joy.Gives us all a mystery to ponder upon. Should we accept to do so. Just think about it. Those burning celestial bodies are millions of miles apart,they exist without the knowledge of the existence of each other. They exist, not knowing the fact that after the sun sinks below the horizon, they form a grand masterpiece on an endless canvas that departs hope to the insignificant beings below them. I think we humans are much like this constellation. Humans live far apart,strangers to each other. Unknown to them,they are knitted  together by the fabric of this universe,forming a truly beautiful pattern or creation. Focusing back t...

                 Dear Readers, When I return to my 'World of Small Things', I am accompanied by a stranger who visits me every year in strange and beautiful disguises. Though the 'stranger' seems cold hearted and ruthless, I enjoy his presence . Yes, winter has arrived. With the cold breezes of winter ,the crisp air and the dampened sunlight, I felt that the 'stranger' was conversing with me. I sunk into my chair and then....listened. The sunlight was now a mesmerising mix of lemon and mango yellow. When this yelclow fell graciously upon the luscious leaves, I thought- 'Déja vu'. I was thinking of my favourite tree. The Cherry blossom. Not any random cherry blossom. The magnificent cherry blossom that stood majestically bearing the cold British winds. The cherry blossom on whose branches , with the uncontrolled imagination of a child  had built up palaces of thought.  At the tips ,along with the baby pink flowers, my...

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 m...

Dear readers,  It has been such a long time since letters blotted these pages of pixels. Invisibly these pages have turned dusty, brown and old. I hope these new words will rejuvenate the passion that fuels the 'world of small things'. For the first time, no burning thought is steering my mind.Random abstract thoughts compelled me to write. I guess and hope that this post will induce a feeling of being lost in the undefined beauty of an abstract painting. Scattered and odd, but igniting the flame of thoughts.  Now I stand at the very verge of that voluntary leap into the unknown abyss of the real world.And my feelings are no different from the literal situation. Pumped by adrenaline but bound by the fear of the darkness of the depths below.  There are some things in my life that seem so insignificant, but have a profound effect on me. For example, the view from my window.Those who have read a few of my previous posts are familiar with the fact that my window is like a...

                                                                                                    I woke up from my daydream....  The hot steam rising from my coffee ended my trance.I sit back and fill my self with the coziness to blend in with the clouded,rainy weather. So here has arrived another monsoon to cleanse the earth,to rejuvenate my mind.Outside as I look through my window,a curtain of raindrops had formed ,obscuring the scenery in a most beautiful way.Its wonderful isn't it when everything becomes more colourful when it is raining?Almost like if an artist is brushing in more colour to his old dusty painting. A drenched mynah flew down gracefully and sat on the concrete beam adjacent to my window.Its feat...