Pigeons and epiphanies

Ahh, it’s the monsoons again! :) In their truest form. It has been raining since three days. Not continuously, but a lot of it every day. Right now, as I sit by the window, it’s raining cats, and dogs and elephants and mammoths! Full on with the lightning and thunder and all that jazz. The rising smell of wet mud and the sound of water drops falling on the roof does make me happy. Although the rain is taking its toll on the electricity. It’s gone since morning. Sigh, that’s nothing new.

I’m having tea with khakhras that I got from Baroda. My mind keeps drifting back to that place again and again. The first few days there, I would forget where I was when I would wake up in the morning. I would get up, stretch and then look around, bewildered, expecting to be in my own room. I think about the frogs that would greet us at the staircase to didi’s apartment, I think about the patch of road filled with the fragrance of jasmine, of the moody, unpredictable stray dogs, of the little patch of grass in front of Cinemax. I think about the evenings spent looking at squealing laughing children on the roundabouts and being envious of their innocence and their hakuna matata existence. I think about the free, lonesome days I spent alone, thinking, speculating, working, lying listlessly. Carefree and at peace. I think about the evenings, the conversations, the long walks, the careless laughter, the jokes, the elation.

I often think about the terrace. Way too often. I think about the endless discussions under the stars, pizza with music playing on the cellphone, the hugs accompanied by the breeze and the last minute sniffles.


I think of how I had spent my last morning there, lying under the sky, watching the birds flying above and thinking about things like how pigeons are such unimportant birds. I observed them sitting on a wire, six of them, shaking their wet-after-the-rain feathers, scratching themselves with their beaks, pecking each other and walking on the ledges with their necks craning back and forth. They were the cutest things I’d seen recently. They were neglected because they were everywhere. If those birds were kingfishers, would I have not taken my phone out and clicked pictures. Would I not have told everybody about it? Rarity makes everything so precious. If it’s there, you take it for granted, if it’s not, then it’s valuable, then everybody wants it. Maybe that is why some people who are loved and smothered too much do not realize how lucky they are. They don’t appreciate the importance of the people who care about them. Like, ‘Yeah my mom loves me, so what? She’s always been there’. While people who are deprived of it, are overwhelmed and overjoyed by a small, simple act of kindness. Okay, just an opinion. You can beg to differ, obviously. This is just one way to look at it.

(the terrace)

I have a mountainful of things on my mind these days. I feel like writing a lot of but I’m occupied with a lot of other things. I’ll be back after this weekend. Lots to share. It’s refreshing to write a post! All the people who read my blog: thank you, really! I guess I must admit that although I do not like to be judged a lot, I do feel good when I share my feelings with everyone. It’s one of the little joys of life. And now, as I’ve reached the last sip of my tea, I’m going to close my eyes and make a little wish. Please pray for it to come true bloggie-readers! Catch you very soon!


Oh, and the power's back :)