Kal Baisakhi.

Just had the 'Kal Baisakhi' of the season. Was studying when the balcony door banged open and my room was filled with a cloud of dust. Of all the Nor'westers I've seen, this was a first. The smell is the best thing about rains, but believe me when I say that this smells different from all rains.Its just that much more of dust, that higher velocity of wind, and that much more of parchness awaiting it which makes it different. Was reminded of the beautifully shot scenes in The Japanese Wife: Kal baisakhi on the river, Kal baisakhi in the village.You have to watch it if only for a glimpse of the river Matla: It was life: Ebbing and Flowing; Tranquil and stormy.


Will have the first Mangoes of the season tomorrow while right now,I am off to have my customary bath.
*Debating if I should sweep my room before crashing*

Probably  will.

Hope the weather stays same tomorrow at Dawn.

A Tag Taken Up.

The tagger said that it just might turn out a fun thing some late night. It's more of early morning now, but let that not hamper my mood. :)

1. I'm allergic to Lux. Makes my skin itch. Badly.

2. Low-flying Aeroplanes make me happy. I feel a bubble rise inside me growing bigger and bigger, finally vanishing as the plane disappears.

3. I'm using the mouse-keys right now because my mouse is broken and I don't have the required 200 bucks to get a new one.

4.I don't drink aerated drinks because they are too strong . The fizz hurts my tongue. I no longer remember the taste of coke.

5. I have witnessed the winters here in Kolkata get warmer and warmer these past 4 years, And every summer breaks the record of the last having 'the hottest day of the decade'.

6. Friends come and go, but in some ways, they also stay on.

7. I have a vivid imagination. Sometimes vivid enough to be classified as hallucination.

Writing.

Just through a blessed Easter weekend, it hit me.I've hardly taken out  an hour over the past two months for something that had transformed into a love: blogging. With my PC out of order, I had a ready excuse, but then again, I could have used the one at the library. It 's been a mad, mad time, but I haven't complained even one of the very, very, many days I've woken up with a throbbing pain in my body. "A body as young as mine can adapt"- I told myself every such morning, but there must be something wrong with work that consumes you so that it has started weaning you away from what you love.

It's heartbreaking that I no longer find an inspiration to write, and the few vague thoughts that cry for expression don't find willing hands. I've always believed that fatigue at the end of the day is awesome. It gives you sleep that is therapeutic.I'm not too sure anymore.

I'm not particularly gifted. My posts often come out garbled at the end of the day, but its a release. But glancing behind I  realised  something else too- my posts form a pattern: A pattern of growth.
Its amazing how starkly obvious this pattern was. In the one and a half year of journey this blog  has seen me through, it has amazingly chronicled personal growth.

And with that realisation, came another: You take a large credit for it.
For all my strong belief that I write for myself and my knowledge that I would continue writing even if  there was no one who read it, as indeed I did for almost the first eight months of my blogging, I know that you reading pushes me on to put an effort to make my words readable. And I know that you reading compels me to draw from a reservoir I didn't even know existed, in times such as these.

Someday, I'll find the courage to write as if no one is reading. To strip to an ugliness that's me. But before that I must continue writing what I write, in the process sketching out my imperfections.

And before that someday comes, I'll keep returning, to this lost corner of the cyberspace,drawing comfort even in its imperfections.