There is a nip in the air. I wish Saket were not this far. It is the perfect weather to sit in the open courtyards of Citywalk and just read. I have been getting back to reading of late. Not as voraciously as I would like but some progress from their completely abandonment of last year.
The pace of the day is slow and lazy. For once it feels so welcome to just while away the time without the shadow of guilt that is always lurking behind somewhere. It is still somewhere around but I am fastidiously ignoring it till this year ends. I have come down from the treadmill, -- breathless and tired from running and reaching no where. The horizon has become hazy and so has the near future. The dream is lost but we are not talking about it yet. Not talking should make the void fill up or go away or I could just will it to cease existing. May be.
It is time to find a new dream.
I don’t mean to be this morose. If you know me and have been talking to me all this while, you would know that I am not. But words seem to be coming out of a place even my conscious self has no access to. So I am letting this cathartic purging take its course. Or may be it’s the surface rust from the lack of writing all this while – red, hard and crusty.
