October 28, 2002


In a valley you can choose to climb the heights at the risk of a possibly fatal fall or stick to the plains and lead a protected existence - you never fall, but you never taste the sweet wine of the heights either. It is amazing to live life as an open ended question, it is something like holding a fragile little feather in your hand and set it free to be played around by the elements. It is scary too, when you know the next five minutes as are certain as the next five years. All along the way the cup is half empty or full depending on the state of your mind and the sweet pleasure of justice awaits you at every corner, when you find yourselves at the receiving end of the stick every now and then. You have to trust your basic instinct towards survival and then fall free through time. Bliss.

Never judge a person by the happiness he shows, a better measure is always the sorrow he hides. How you go about it is the million dollar question. There are signs and signs everywhere, people are mazes with carefully concealed doors littering every dead end. Sometimes you find them unknowingly and you are happily let in, sometimes you barge in without an invitation only to be chased out with the strongest of denials.

After many a botched attempt, the city has finally managed to snare the elusive creature called as winter, three months of huddled pleasure awaits us now. In the thickening haze it is getting more and more difficult to make out one from the other, so we are slowing down. Slowing down in warming up to love hastening in running towards the arms of hate. Somewhere among all of that exists little lonely recesses in the mind, sheltered from the howling winds, where stolen moments of happiness are written in a language unknown to the outside world. Of course, I know you do not understand a word of all this. But as I said before, never use the oft used measures. A smile is often an expression of sorrow turned upside down. Go figure.

Words get tangled on your tongue
And you stumble on your feet
When you miss somebody
And everywhere you think you see them
Walking down the street
When you miss somebody
-- Wave Goodbye by Chris Cornell