People, in their open roof cars, indulged in the epicurean life are going from point A to B. Here we are, cutting our way in the middle and reaching point C. The journey starting from the market, where you are handling your business, all the way through, taking the same road as other idiots are, and pretending to be heading towards Mussoorie, the hill queen, we are betraying this point B. The love towards point C is in the fact that we philosophers are unleashing our desires, our urges. The longing to talk it all out, the pain, the things felt and experienced in a materialistic society, of which we are sadly a part of. The miscarriage of justice, the loop holes in the intentions of the majority, the irresponsible power play, is what we ponder upon. We take the burden of it all, and talk quietly among the travellers of point B, momentarily halting their pomp and show at point C, unlike us, for whom this point is the destination and the point of travelling back to the source after we are blank and empty. The macaroni and tea is what gives us company. The little drizzle tries to cool down our moral temper and yes it does. The greenery looked down from this point, disapproves the negativity we have seen, but we are the custodian of it all. The positivity prevails here, and it rejects our cases but we like a warrior but at the same time a weak vulnerability, sits and talk it all.
Under the radar we talk, we talk about the ill and the evils, the devils who eat us bit by bit daily and will one day engulf us in their colors. The colors that we reject openly and thus face the wrath. The wrath of immorality, stupidity, mediocracy, low brahman, ignorance and many of the diseases inflicting them all. After the discussion, we start back down in the opposite direction, facing them face to face. Looking at their ignorance, we see meannglessness in our life and the thoughts of nothingness prevails. We face the force from opposition, as we move down. Move down from where we emerged. We, the two philosophers.
The old city is far behind. But not the few whom I left. The place is empty and shall remain like that forever, is the bitter truth. Those are irreplaceable, is what I have known after four weeks of coming here, here in the new city. Still coming closer to the native is a sign, a sign of relief to meet the family more often. The new city bridges that gap, the gap which was there earlier to the native city. The new city offers promises and tells that it will take care of me like the older one did. It shows me the warmth with humidity that was absent in the older one. The warmth is overwhelming. I have asked it to become little cool like the old city. And looks like, the things are cooling down. Which is a good sign and removes one of the many complains. The use of auto rickshaw is too much that those drivers know me. Also after charging me highly, they justify it all through the way of source to destination. I can’t retaliate but agree.
The eyes seek pattern to match it with the old one. The mind try to match the places with the old one, but fails, which is reasonable. Life is on extremes, it never balances is what I have learnt all through this transition. This transition has come up with its own set of lessons. The stability, the comfort which was acquired in the old city with respect to friendships and professional expertise are on stake here, as the things will be worked out from scratch. The experience gained earlier will help in the onward journey is the only hope keeping me together in one piece under this huge pressure of proving myself once again. Hope things work out well.
The beautiful long hair of yours cannot be matched with anyone. First time meeting you in the food court, through a friend was a delight. Munching lunch alone, that day took me off guard after having a very brief meet up. I chased you after that and indeed caught you just when you were about to enter your office building. The discussion was gratifying while having the ingredient of being a introductory one. The interactions happened as the days passed. The chats, the talks gave a sign of satisfaction and a feeling of finding the perfect match. The attraction grew like a vine plant. The world was contented with a hope. A hope of meeting you, conversing with you the things sorrounding us. Sometime looked you from far in the premises with your friends. Your hair looked out of this world, setting you apart in the crowd. Those moments are worth cherishing.
You are far away, like a distant star. Your worth is ever increasing with the passing days. The last time you met, had teary eyes. A tiny girl with a big volume of black gold looked like a fairy tale. A tale of surpassing beauty, of love, of innocense. Nothing can match those hair as I said. Those long hair is what I see and feel. Is what I see and feel.