hmmm.....

The well read traveller, who spoke several tongues The organised soul who dwelt in lands of fantasy The mapped roads, the dicey games The one with attachments, the interesting you, I wish we could become friends. I wish we travelled too. Although, I think we won't. But for now, I smile that people like you exist. Thank you for existing, you'll not know it, in fact, I may forget too. But for now, thank you for existing, see you sometime soon.

The you, that I let go of. But who trails behind like and an echoing whisper, ever there, ever haunting. Somewhere at the back of my head.

So, as ever I find someone so fascinating from a distance Like their taste, their mere existence but i'll keep that distance, because they usually turn out to be mirages. This one too. A fascinating story i'd like to know more about but will only move away cause i can see the consequences.

All these years later, I still close my eyes and think of the 'trust exercise'. I still think of worst case scenario. And then, keep a distance or cut off from people who don't fit in these categories. Life is too short to waste on such formalities for a prolonged period of time. And to all those who have been in this zone. Thank you. 

The same me. The same you. But how much we've changed or is it the times? No. We've always been this way The same me. The same you. And somewhere, somehow, we knew this to be true. All the long walks, the longer phone calls, the crying, the yelling. The same me. The same you. The fights, claims to who was right. The apologises, starting anew. The same me, the same you. The me that remembers, the you that forgot, or the me that forgot that, you do remember. The same me. The same you. Not how long, its how well you know a person. But knowing is what , brought us here. The same me, the same you. Reading looks, finding truth, sharing pain, calming cares and the hurt. The same me, the same you The blame games, the sentiments, the blatant lies, and then the truth, all of it meant, the same me, the same you. Fear it will happen again, Fear it won't. Finding,the same me, and the same you .  (Here's hoping my ill...

It has been a while since I posted anything Christmasy or since I posted a video (I think?).  Was listening old  (read the 1990s) 'private album' songs on YouTube and this started playing. It reminds me of Picket and happy memories. It reminds me of the school library where I started reading O.Henry. It reminds me of Christmas in H-1, Essaar Apartments, West Marredpally. And next song (while I post this is Piya Basanti, but that is for some other time.) Until then (in case I don't blog before that) wish you all out there, a very merry Christmas. May Santa visit you in many forms (the syncretic in me speaks :P)

..from my deep slumber these are the thoughts I had: The dear kid is going to turn sixteen tomorrow. Sixteen. Sixteen. Maybe repeatedly saying it will help. I wonder what he is like now and what he looks like. I love that kid I once knew and It'll remain that way. My laziness is directly proportional to the number of utensils I need to wash (do the dishes). That is how much I dislike doing the dishes. Although atleast now I have a proper sink to soak them and wash them well. I wash them fast when I start, but old habits and tastes die hard. Probably because of all the noise they make back while washing, probably the cold winters when we were kids and my colder hands...don't know which of those is the main reason but reason or not, not my favourite thing to do.  And lastly, I found Full House (eng) decent streaming at last! Wooohoooo! Happiness!