November 12, 2002


The sun is a pale orange pastel's arc with streaks of faded yellow crisscrossing its face. On a dark blue river its reflection tapers to the silhouette of a lonely boatman splashing his oars making gentle waves that travel towards the shores touching all life that happen to be there at that time. There is a giant waterfall up ahead, which does not slow down the splashes. There are only smiles in this painting.

Time is its own master, but you master time when you break free from it by conceding all to it. She is a wonderful fairy leading you by her hand to newer, stranger and at times beautiful lands. There is no learning in this journey. We kneel at the starting line with a zero and we come full circle to complete the run as zero. The interim is marked by experience in numbers other than zero that fills you up with a temporary value.

The more you hold on to things, the more she drags you along, it cuts, bruises and leaves you hurting. The more you let go, the further you blend into the journey and each passing day there is a lesser ounce of you left in you. We are in a mad race towards the second zero.

So many have come and even more have left. So many you have hurt and so many have paid you back with same coin. There are debts that you think you have repaid and then there are debts that all the money in this world, like some messy accounts, you can never clear. Between words that were actually said and words that were dreamt up, there remains nothing but a moth eaten register in the mind to mark their memories. Thank you for staying here dear sirs, hope you had a nice time, please do visit us again.

You and only you persist in the end, like the smile that accompanies that simple realisation.

I am going nowhere. I am here to stay....