November 05, 2002


Time is an enduring snowball, unstoppable and ever growing, ever persistent with its threat to mow you down at any given instance. Its cumulative side effect is often the fancy disease called as experience which leaves unpleasant scars as reminders. Prevention being a non-entity, it is often left to immunity to pick up the pieces every time it mows you down. Lessons are never learnt. This class is an abject failure. Shame on all of you. Dismissed!

Am dreading the arrival of December. The past five years or so, the same month has brought about radical and often unwelcome changes in my life and today my feet are freezing, the dreaded chill is arriving. We are coming to get you lad, sure as hell we are! I want a safe and secure corner, an old barrel, some wood to burn in it and a warm pair of hands to hold on to.

Summers are too hot, but the stars are wonderful and they litter the skies like popcorn scattered on the floor when you spill it from the jumbo packet. Winters are too cold, there are no stars, just the grey haze of an unpleasant anticipation blankets life. Chase the impersonal cold in summers and the distant stars in winters, after a while one loses track of what was being missed and what was in grasp. Spin round and round like a top to tumble and fall in a dark heap. Ring a ring of roses......

A heady tune reaches its crescendo dancing to the wild steps of fingers doing a tango with the strings, another flick and yet another roll of ash takes to the air on its way to the ground. Pale morning light slowly dissolves the darkness, shapes emerge, the snowball rolls on. Another day begins.

Where is my mug of coffee?

You're calling me mad
But i know you're the same
Cause you got to be seen to be playing the game
Yes we got to be seen to be playing, the game. --
Otherwise by Morcheeba