Connections

Its odd when you decide that you should write a post at 3:30 in the morning, especially when you have no clue what would the post be about.

Its a dark room and the light is coming only from my laptop screen. I can see the curtains on the open door glide seductively, revealing the world outside, still keeping its secrets intact. I can see the sky, the ponto and its reflection, the moon (occasionally) and the white wall of the house in the front. All of these mean nothing and on second thoughts everything. The sky is sky, the ponto is Rome, moon is Muzayun and the white wall is white because there is moon. There can be numerous other meanings, some more interesting than these, some less.

Looking around I can also see a sleeping lamp, a basket with dirty clothes, a half-empty suitcase, a mirror reflecting nothing... There can be meaning to all of these. Mind is capable of giving meanings and making connections with inanimate things. And these remain with us for a long time to come, some remain forever. Some torment us, but we still can't give them up.

I see the keypad, recently cleaned by someone very dear. The recollection makes me touch the keys more softly than ever, to see its whiteness even in the dark, to enjoy typing. I see darkness in some corners of the room, places I am learning to ignore.

I heard the bell ring a while back, ignored that as well. Who could it be at this hour?

The night is never long enough, a couple of hours more and there would be light outside. I will see the birds, the sun, neighbours, dogs and make even more connections.

Saturday...

Its a nice and cool morning in Ahmedabad. The fact that its a weekend only adds to my delight...

Started the day with almost no plans, but now interesting thoughts are coming into my head. Something that I always wanted to do, but didn't just feel the time was right. But then the time is never right, and I may just die one day with these thoughts in my head.

Today is a day dedicated to writing; I am not sure what would I call these - random, broken memoirs, maybe? I should have written these down a while back, the memories have already been adulterated by so many events after them, things much more dominant and much less in my control.

This post is also odd, like an extended version of your status on Facebook or Twitter. Oddly enough, though both of these look superfluous, when one dwelves deeper into them, they reveal so much about a person. People say things which they would never say otherwise. And try going through your own older posts, it would reveal something new about you as well. You would be surprised with some very personal, raw emotions...