Another listThings that I love about life:
Books. What can I say about them other than that they have a life of their own. No feeling on earth compares to opening a new book in a bookstore and smelling a random open page. To touch and leaf through one is bliss and to be able to read is one of the greatest gift anyone could ever possess. Personally, I hate people who mistreat books in bookstores, who do not care enough to replace a book where it was found without messing around with it. Books are like infants, the way you treat them when they are young plays a huge part in how they shape up as they mature and grow older. Music shops and bookstores, sigh, these are the only two places which makes me regret the fact that I was not born the son of a millionaire. I can never have enough of either.
To have honestly believed as a kid that I was really flying an airplane, precariously perched on the high branch of a truncated guava tree in the yard, with all the great vocal sound effects to boot. To have run shirtless and barefoot all over the then unpaved colony roads, compound walls and terraces of petrified neighbours and return home late in the evening with the day's trophies of scraped and lost skin and flesh to the inevitable caning and verbal abuse sessions, only to do it all over again the following day.
To have loved senselessly for four years and to have been lucky enough to be loved back with the same or a better level of intensity even when the inevitability of the conclusion was clear from almost day one. To flip through old photographs and trace the outline of faces and moments with my finger and relive it all again, to catch that magical look in a pair of twinkling eyes and recount the days when you would have done almost anything in the name of love. To be held in a way for a few seconds in time when you wanted someone to press the freeze button on life's remote and rest there forever snug and comfortable in all the warmth that sustains life even today.
To be here today, when through all those yesterdays tomorrow was a nothing but a distant impossibility.
Things I hate about life:
It is one nasty addiction I cannot kick and I hate admitting that even with all the whining I am hooked big time onto it.
Yeah, I know I said tata and all that jazz less than 24 hours back. But in the end I have to admit I love doing this, to spill my gut out here and then have it appreciated or dissed by whoever happens to pass by. And I really do not think I need any other justification to keep doing it other than the fact that I love it. If I want to stash it someplace secret, I might as well keep it in my mind and not put it all down at all.
Those who want to freak out or shut me up in a loony bin can please help themselves and not read all this, for this what I am. Take it or leave it, there are no half measures on this ride. Those with a weak heart please step aside.
Thank you ladies and gentlemen, the freak show is back in town. Tickets are selling at a discount for the next few days and please do not feed, provoke or harm the animals, they are very unpredictable when they are dealt with in such a manner. You co-operation and words of encouragement are very much appreciated. Let us bring it on!