After

After all this time I wouldn’t have imagined that it would be the thought of you that brings a smile to my lips the way it does now, without any regard to where I am or what I am doing. That you could cause my heart to skip a beat or two with just a glance my way, that anyone or anything could make me want to be a better person. When we met I would have laughed at the idea that I’d be doodling your name on scraps of paper like a high schooler with a crush but I do that now, involuntarily. I don’t quite understand why catching a glimpse of you in the crowd makes my day, but it does.

I would be content with watching you from a distance, because it is you in your element. The way it seems as though the world was designed with you in it because of how you seem to fit in so perfectly. I, the outsider, could watch you and it would make me happy for some unfathomable reason, maybe it is the thought that you or at least a part of you is all mine, even if not right then.

I think of running my hands through your hair as you fall asleep, watching your chest rise and fall rhythmically. I think of trying to match my breathing with yours as I’m lying on your chest. I think of how I trace the lines on your body with my eyes, with the tips of my fingers, intrigued by the discovery of the ticklish spots that make you laugh. I think of your laugh, and how it fills my world, how it can make me happy even when I’m feeling my worst. I think of how I love you, simply and without thought of what now or what comes after because this fluttery sort of happiness is all I need.

About Time, Don't You Think?

A/N: Anyone who is here for the first time, this is not the usual kind of post. If fiction is what you are looking for, go over to the older posts. Thank you!

---

Well, hello!

Thank you person who left an anonymous comment asking me if I had abandoned this blog. Turns out, I had. This blog had reduced to one point on a bullet list in my resume which served as a convenient ice breaker during interviews, "Oh so you have a blog?" "Yes, since 2009."

To write, to write, to write. See it turns out, I have been writing a lot since the last time I posted (which was in November 2015?!) but I haven't been writing for myself. I'm doing this online content writing internship and it's going really really well, so all you young people who are sitting around with nothing to do, start doing internships and volunteer work. You'd wish you had when you're working your 16 hour IT job with no time to breathe.

This year has been pretty great. I spent New Years with a friend that I've known for the longest time and she and I rekindled our friendship over munchies and Red Bull. Oh and I watched the fireworks go off from on top of a kind of high building. A friend's sister got married and we were all wedding-clubbing! Which was all sorts of awesome. I love these people.

I spent three days in Fort Kochi with these people wandering about the touristy places, not really doing a lot of sightseeing, just eating lots of good food and chilling at the beach. I don't know if it is because I associate Fort Kochi with the Biennale but I feel that there's something so beautifully artistic about the place, the buildings, the streets. I love the art on the walls and I love the way the people don't really bother you or stare at you because they're so used to people doing touristy things.

There's this thing about the beach. It doesn't matter if there's a lot of seaweed-y float-y green and brown things on it, it has this incredible calming effect on me. While I was there I got this feeling that moment right there was my big awakening and that if I started to write then, all sorts of wonderful stories and characters could be put into words but I couldn't, I was busy having fun.

That's something I've noticed about myself though, I don't seem to want to document a moment in which I'm feeling wonderful, I just want to feel it.

There was this guy on the beach with this expensive looking DSLR camera. He was trying to get a picture of the sunset through an incandescent light bulb which he buried into the sand. He left after he took that picture and I thought, whoa. To have a passion you'd spend hours kneeling in the sand for. If I were a teeny bit more outgoing I might have said hi. But I'm not and so I didn't.

If you head out to Fort Kochi, get food from this place called Pizza Italia. They've got some of the best pizza that I've ever had. And 'Upstairs' they've got live music and really good calamari.

I'm thinking of the last three months in terms of food, that's how much I've eaten.

And I went to Bangalore for the first time. A lot more food. I'll write about that another time.

I've said goodbye to two old friends and although I miss them I don't know if I will be talking to either of them again so that's a little sad. The never ending conversations ceased. The dots stopped spinning. Life is made up of hellos and goodbyes and I'd rather have more meetings than departures but sometimes these things are out of your control. And maybe the old have to move out to make room for the new.

Welcome to Armchair Philosophy 101 conducted by me, now in a very good mood because I threw open the windows and its very windy. I hope it rains.

Speaking of old and new, I met a lot of fun new people because of whom I think I'm actually going to miss college when I graduate in a few months. I can't wait though. To be all grown up and fending for myself.

I'm thinking I should try one of those blogging challenges, just to make sure that I come here once in a while. Oh and 11k views! I love you guys!

I've been assigned work for the evening so until I decide which blogging challenge I'm going to do, I'm abandoning you, blog. Back to a bullet point on my resume it is for you.

x

PS. It's raining!

The Original Dream

I claim to want riches, lots of money, exquisite sculptures and paintings, one of a kind of everything under the sun, collector's items, precious things, everything, a fancy house on the beach, another in the city and a third in the hills.

Maybe I want love and happiness, to work on something enchanting, inspiring and motivating, to surround myself with people who challenge me, engage me intellectually.

To be able to write the stories that appear in my mind at the oddest of moments, when I'm walking or talking or looking out the window on a cold rainy day, when I'm laughing or crying, to be able to make words feel emotions, to be able to translate this wonderful magical experience of living into words and sentences.

I want to sing the songs that I make up in my dreams, in time with every step I take when I'm awake. To hum, maybe whistle, to describe what it's like to be in my shoes through tunes.

I want to dance, each step following the rhythm of the beating of my heart, each movement a reflection of the deep, dark corners of my soul. An expression of why I am who I am and what it is that makes up this consciousness that I call myself.

The dreams of castles, gems and riches coexist with those of freedom and expression, coexisting, supporting, growing, not judging. For they are all the same, these dreams, manifestations of desires of grandeur, material and of the mind.

They all spin in a tight whirlpool, the occasional memory or emotion joins in for the ride before going back to their respective areas of expertise. This is the world of dreams, and everyone is welcome.

And if I walk through them, brushing aside the ones that get tangled in my hair, holding back the ones that try to engulf me, push away those that try to absorb my humanity, there is a calm centre. Nothing spins, there is no sound, no feeling. There it is, the one original dream. Pure and untouched.

I'm an artist. Sitting by the street, cross legged on the pavement, on the rocks by the stream with my feet in the water. And I create, paintings of people, places and things. Obscure, abstract images which are at the same time a depiction of clarity. Paintings lacking conventional beauty rather containing some ethereal quality, brush strokes representing interconnected thoughts and philosophies, that no one really gets but everyone pretends to understand.

posted from Bloggeroid