I step into the balcony I have often mentioned. It’s 3:38 a.m. by the watch. It’s a Fastrack I had bought, one of my early acquisitions from my salary and hence precious. It was from the Titan showroom outside Andheri West. That was where I lost a phone too. Stepped out of the auto and suddenly realised that the phone wasn’t with me. Frantic running around and calling the no.; no response. The crowd had swallowed up an entire auto in 3 minutes. These two events are separated by a whole year. It’s funny how my mind can link up different periods of times together effortlessly, something my writing struggles with. I climb the balcony railing and jump out. I don’t hit the ground. Not the solid cemented pathway, nor the soft mud. Instead I’m reminded of the soft sounds of rain on a night almost half a year ago. And as the memory lingers, I let the memory complete itself savouring the particular pitch of the rain that night half a year ago. I remember the strange shadows cast by the neem tree outside my balcony on my walls from the orange lamps that lit the passage between the two dorms. But most of all I remember feeling an echo of sadness in the rain. And quite suddenly I didn't feel alone. 

- March, 2009

I've decided to start posting some of the stuff saved up on my computer over the last couple of years. I guess I started writing them out as blogposts, or sometimes personal notes. Most are lost, but some I saved up carefully. There are bits of ambitious short stories and sometimes just random lines strung together unfit to be called prose and too embarrassed to even masquerade as poetry. 


Powered by my over enthusiastic imagination, I'd draw parallels from characters and lyrics I'd encounter and forever keep blending my real life into the stuff I'd read/listen to. The primary reason for posting them I think are the memories each piece is associated with. Sometimes what they describe are memoir like and sometimes I can vividly recall the days and weeks that surrounded a particular bit of writing which would mostly be nonsense to a reader. 

Thing is, I'm suddenly back in that semi reality state; completely overpowered by the book I've been reading for a really long time now, having been interrupted by my Himachal mountain biking/cycling trip. It's not bleak by any stretch of imagination (not my Murakami fetish again). It's just a happy story. Quite like my sudden discovery of Belle & Sebastian, who I TOTALLY recommend. I'd need to thank A & D for reinforcing each others views and pushing me towards my 24x7 Belle & Sebastian playlists.

Here's one of many favourites. Describing almost exactly the way summer has been for me. 


Asleep On A Sunbeam.

When the half light makes for a clearer view
Sleep a little more if you want to
But restlessness has siezed me now, it's true
I could watch the dreams flicker in your eyes
Lying here asleep on a sunbeam
I wonder if you realise you fascinate me so

Think about a new destination
If you think you need inspiration
Roll out the map and mark it with a pin
I will follow every direction
Just lace up your shoes while I'm fetching a sleeping bag, a tent...

Another summer's passing by
All I need is somewhere I feel the grass beneath my feet
A walk on sand, a fire I can warm my hands
My joy will be complete

I thought about a new destination
I'm never short of new inspiration
Roll out the map and mark it with a gin
Made my plans to conquer the country
I'm waiting for you to get out of your situation
With your job and with your life

All I need is somewhere I feel the grass beneath my feet
A walk on sand
A fire, I can warm my hands
My joy will be complete.