Falling Into You ...

Oh my dreamland. I won't take your name, not for now, not in a public forum. But all I can think of these days is getting to you, coming to you fast enough. I have no plans for New Year's eve, and here I am, spinning dreams of spending 31 December, 2013, in you.  When I visualize time in my mind, especially the period of my life from now until the moment I land on your shores, all I can see is a black nothingness. As if the dates have been plucked out of the calendar and hurled into a gaping void. And all becomes unusually magical...

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Evening Breeze

When I listen to this composition, I lose myself in the moment. I usually have this playing in the background when I am writing. It helps me imagine. I may be sitting in my living room on the sofa but in my mind I am in some sort of a fantasy tale. Mostly this melody transports me to the outdoors, where I lie under the shade of a tree in a large tract of forest, birds twittering, my heart leaping with joy at the sight of sun rays beaming through the leaves of the tall trees, sunshine keeping my bones warm and my skin radiant. All the wood...

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The Wait ...

I am waiting for the big move to happen in 2013. I won’t reveal details now, but the anticipation is killing me. But I am also beginning to understand that I must take this time that I have and use it wisely.  There is some sort of surreal beauty in waiting. It is filled with so much hope and faith, the belief that our dreams will come true is so strong it eventually manifests itself as reality. I have seen this happen before in my life, I have no doubt as to where we are headed in coming months, the signs are all there, the Universe is...

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My Muse is a whimsical lass

The car turns around the bend I throw my head back To catch a glimpse of her by the window We have an intense resemblance, I know we do, She is me  From long ago, From a forgotten era From another world I dare not bring her along to work She is awfully naughty, you see Peddling dreams, spouting poetry, And what a boisterous laugh she has I’m afraid she’ll ruffle some feathers here And leave me to do all the explaining (And oh! I am so terrible at that) And so I leave her at home I bet she is not pleased with that But...

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Move over, London! Sydney is my new love.

For a long time now I have been wanting to stage my life in London. And because I haven't been able to so far, I have been pining for the city with the kind of longing and unquestionable admiration I have for all things nineteenth-century English. This is something I have never been able to rationalize or explain, even to my self. The language, the accent, the mannerisms, images of the beautiful English countryside that Enid Blyton and other authors have filled up in my head over the years, anything even remotely English comes across as tantalizingly...

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Grandma, I will always have a fond memory of you.

Grandma died today. My paternal Grandma. She was 85. Or 86.  She would have turned a year older tomorrow, if one were to consult the Hindu calendar. They say she was bedridden for a month, slowly losing her faculties. Incapable of speech, unable to eat, barely able to move by herself.  The tears did not flow at first, not when Mom broke the news to me this evening. I shed them when Dad came to the phone later. My mother has died, he said simply. My last memory of her is at the time of my cousin’s engagement ceremony in...

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In which I say to you "Hello, again"

God, or whoever created the Universe, must have had a fetish for rotundity. Why else would the earth be round or life come full circle?  So let the Creator be blamed and tormented in Hell for driving me back to the handle ‘Impulsively Me’, which, I had first laid claim to more than five years ago. Or was it six? Doesn’t matter, not very much anyway now that I am back here and it feels as if I had never left. On second thoughts, let me take that back. It does feel all new and familiar at the same time, much like trying to seduce a forgotten...

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