On wanting to write poem

 I want to write a poem today

honest,rhyming and beautiful
I want my heart to sing and say
of all thats been so wonderful

I want to sit and recollect those days in flights
when the setting sun coloured the nights
with a slow hangover of the day past 
and a smiling hope of the morrow in cast


I want to remind me of that long dark night
of that lonely walk and of circular path
of that endless sink and that eternal death
but all that passed in a blink of eye


I want to think of the morning that came 
with the soft sunshine and birds chirping her name
that long deep breath and the power to run
but now the moon has come and covered the sun


I dont want to write a poem today
unjust, crying and in discipline
which stops me to speak and say
lost I am, but still on run

From old diary (Oct 2003)

On the nature of time

Now,

immediately ephemeral

compelling, pressing, captivating

infinite futures charmed in split second
present

Then,
cozily eternal
plodding, lingering, pipedreaming
time warp caged in imagination
distant

From old diaries 

The standstill

 What did you see in your dreams, he asked his 2 year old son?

A sheep, he answered, like always.

The winter is coming to an end, the sun rises quite early these days and soon there will be day light savings. The memories of deep winter in the pandemic lockdown is getting blurred with the summer which was also spent in this lockdown. Everything seems to be blurred into a standstill. They used to go to the neighbourhood farm to see sheep during the summer months. For a long time now, he keeps telling him that the farm is shut and sheep are all sleeping and that they would go again once summer is back. For a two year old who has never had ice cream, this summer is much awaited, he will have his first ice cream and he will have a new bubble making machine which he briefly experienced last summer. He will also be able to get back to seeing sheep, but thats one thing he may have already found a way not to wait for. He is meeting them every night in his dreams.

Are you sure it was a sheep again this time?

Yes!

He thinks, he probably doesn't understand what a dream means yet. That thought branches out to a google query, when do kinds start dreaming. Well things change around 3 years, even though they have been experiencing dreams since the age of 1 or even less. Things will change this summer hopefully once the lockdowns get over...it seems kids have been waiting to grow, their imaginations seem to rely only on imaginations for now. 

Love in the time of Corona

It was inevitable, or at least made to feel like inevitable. The scent of bitter coffee beans always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love. He would give himself frequent small dose of cappuccino through every day to keep himself numb to attend to work that for him had lost all meaning many years before. 

There will be no more coffee from familiar baristas, not for next two weeks and then every alternate two weeks. No more five minutes chit-chat over smoke to resolve the impasse after hour long meetings, no more after work drinks, no more travel. Most events that he had continued keeping himself convinced to look excited about are getting cancelled or will be thinly attended. Doomsday prophecies were still another couple of years away before they would imagine a haunted Wharf but it looks like those images are already here like an exhibit in Tate Modern. He had finally cancelled his Tate membership last year after he hardly visited it for last couple of years. The member area would have been a good place to work remotely from. He won’t miss them though as the expectation is to avoid public place. May be he can cancel his office gym membership finally, he has hardly used that either, last two years.

I am sure it won’t be long before he gets used to working from home. 15 years after he first bought a coffee machine, he can now consider getting an AeroPress or Sage. He need not wait until retirement to make good coffee at home.

Awareness

How are you?
Oh, i am feeling so cold...
Are you being sarcastic?
Of course no, I am just trying to create that make believe. It’s so difficult to survive this heat otherwise.

The weather channel has predicted that temperatures would go to 38 or 39 degrees centigrade and it would be a record high if it did. saying what he was saying, he already knew that his choice of using make believe could be setting the tone for the conversation ahead. For a moment, he also thought if she must be going through similar thoughts as he was at the moment and if she was introspecting whether her choice of using sarcastic could be setting the tone. 

swallowing a big hot bite

How does it feel when you bite more than you can chew? How does it feel if its quite hot as well? Well, with experience you know that eventually you will manage it and that very soon you will be ready for next bite. Hopefully a smaller bite next time!
This book project perhaps required a little better preparedness. And its still true that you cant ever prepare anything to perfection.

I remember i was taught to eat with complete focus to avoid such mishap and gain maximum nutrition from my food. Its easier said than done though. Life gives you enough opportunity to keep distracted. Its never easy to ignore these distractions. And yet this thought cant escape you that the reality could well be just the other way and its the eating that is a distraction to life. You cant not have enough time to think about how you are losing connections with a good part of your own self to an absurd hunger to keep alive. I am not sure if i feel like eating anything.

reboot and refit the prediction

Alright, i now know that 28th July, inadvertently, brings me back here every few years. I also now know that i have sufficient datapoint to start making some sense of this absurd pace and may be start thinking of how this blog will look like in 20 years or so. Or may be not. I think too much.
I will see if i know anything about the pace at which i am writing the book by tomorrow!