I take my dreams and make of them a bronze vase
And a round fountain with a beautiful statue in its centre.
And a song with a broken heart and I ask you:
Do you understand my dreams?
Sometimes you say you do,
And sometimes you say you dont.
Either way it doesnt matter.
I continue to dream.
by Langston Hughes
All I want
Is a ride.
Take me anywhere.
As long as I can
See, hear, feel.
As long as the dark glasses
Of ignorance
Are stripped off my eyes
Every other minute.
As long as all this extra weight I carry
Of petty skirmish, complacence, mediocrity,
Is stolen, hidden, taken away.
Until my mind
Is simple
And clear
Like the wind in my hair
And water through my fingers.
As long as this sponge
Can soak up
More words,more thoughts, more smiles, more darkness,
More death and destruction,
More happy imperfection,
And learn from it,
All I want
Is a ride.
Take me Anywhere
– G .
Orange flags
Persistent nags
The days are caked in gray.
I tug at your shirt
We watch our shadows flirt
The times sits still and stays.
All the clouds they gathered
At my doorstep
And the waves
They rose and grew.
The crows,
they circled in the sky
Even the lazy cat
It opened a wary eye
Impatient
For me and you.
Impromptu lines inspired by the sea and an impending storm, by the looks of it! So much day dreaming..
I have been wanting to write about my running, but I kept feeling like I wasn’t running enough to write about it. Like I needed to clock in some more serious miles, before my words could mean enough.
Then today’s run set me free from the mini-whirlpool of thoughts sucking all my peace of mind.
I can only speculate what it is about running that does that. The feeling of the solid ground passing beneath my feet, the release of endorphins, the focusing on breathing or the acute awareness of form that I have been working at developing. I just know that every run brings me back to base, reminds me of who I am and the direction in which I want to head. Its also restores faith in my body’s ability.
And the biggest thing I have derived from all the running, is to be Fearless.
It is the only way to be.
Cannot form the right sentences to express just what I need to say, but as songs do some times, this has come to my rescue.
I have come to believe, that true freedom lies in deriving happiness from within, and begins with actually being at peace with yourself, loving who you are and working with that to move towards who you want to be.
Finding that balance between being confident while attempting to be objective about your flaws.
I am so grateful to the people in my life who still believe in me. Coach comes through to give you exactly what you need when you least expect it, and without asking for it.I hope I find a way to thank him some day.
See, c’est la vie
Maybe something’s wrong with me
But, at least I am free.
And suddenly there’s a lot of Ed Sheeran playing in my head. Not that I’m complaining.
Hmmm hmm hmm hmm, but the world looks better through your eyes!
Sitting centimeters away from this bonfire, watching these people around me, go through their thoughts, living like there was no tomorrow, sleeping like this may be the last time they may get some sleep, giving up any semblance of normality by the usual standards and reveling in being So different and finding solidarity in this, how can i help but be inspired. This, I say aloud, is the life.
And if the night is burning
I will cover my eyes
For if the dark returns then
My brothers will die
And as the sky’s falling down
It crashed into this lonely town
And with that shadow upon the ground
I hear my people screaming out
And I see fire
Inside the mountains
I see fire
Burning the trees
I see fire
Hollowing souls
I see fire
Blood in the breeze.
– I See Fire from The Hobbit soundtrack
It has been a glorious Sunday. Early in the morning, a baby turned pink from an almost purple blue.
Then a hike to the hill just off the highway, hidden behind dense thicket, surrounded by large rocks and purple weeds, revealed a stream gurgling loud complaints as it splashed rocks into shape. We watched water spiders make waves and heard brainfever birds in the distance, in addition to my company airing their ear worms loudly. 
On the way back, we made a detour through the local sunday market, and while the others bought strange shaped and coloured vegetables from small piles, i attempted to catch the eye of anyone who looked like they may be interested in being my camera’s subject.
Brunch was an omlette, with the sweet locally baked bread and a colourful salad tossed in olive oil, vinegar, pepper and lemon ( I think). After much lazy hot water splashing, I sit here, with my feet up(my toe ring changing colours after having been subject to multiple elements of nature), my back to a luke warm sun, under a wood thatched roof, a wooden hand-made chime dancing gently over my head, and strains of flute coming from the neighbouring hut. My limbs ache sweet from the walking. Afternoon is spilling into evening, the birds are flying back in poorly constructed Vs and I feel good. I have caught the day, as if off guard, in a moment that is still, and alive. Im sipping very sour lemon tea, nibbling on a very sweet sweet a friend has brought from Kerala and reading a book called ‘Emergency Sex (and other Desperate Measures) : True Stories from a war zone’, written by a bunch of people who worked with U.N. The song of the crickets has already faded into a barely discernible back ground track, and the infamous Bijapur mosquitoes have begun to buzz in my ears, attracted to my bright laptop screen. Today has been sorted. I am grateful.
The Nomad in Spirit 