i have so much to say, that i'm at a loss. constantly. so i blog less, talk less. instead i doodle, fold all my words into paper flowers in the brightest colours.
meanwhile, there's monsoon. unpredictable and abuzz with dragonflies. so i look up before it rains, and after, and grin to myself.
the last of the red is fading from the Gulmohars, still they leave the occasional perfect crimson blossom in my path.
red is the colour of wonder.
life has settled back in its own odd ways. some things one has to leave behind.
p.s.: in a city of 4.5 million people, there's not one decent pet and stray care clinic open on sundays. people just don't give a shit.
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'I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.
And when lights begin to show,
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down...'
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.
And when lights begin to show,
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down...'
