We're living in a den of thieves. Rummaging for answers in the pages.

The wind is violent today. It is insistent on blowing me away. It brings with it a new sweet smell. Usually smells bring back several memories. But this one is pure, untouched and un-smelt. It is not of the past. I am not reminiscing, for once. Though the future is still swimming in uncertainty, I feel a strange sense of control. It may not last tomorrow. So I shall let myself afloat. For now. For today.

The Little Man is thinning on my right hand. It has been a great journey of love, dreams, desires, and hopes. I have grown with him into a little woman. My aspirations are different, but our enthusiasm is similar. Our restlessness, even more.

The TV has been running nearly all day. From one channel to another, its the same story. A story that makes my blood boil. Yes, they are called soaps. I wish they'd rinse themselves clean with it. They get filthier with each new production. I am amazed at their increasing viewership. I am either degrading in patience, or the TV viewing community is gradually losing its strings of sanity. The grey matter fading into a numb white. Scary. The ladies are more heavily clad in ugly jewellery and pokey sarees. The men are using more vulgar language and torturing the women. The children are increasing cranky and spoilt. The elders are well, the less said the better. The evil mother-in-law has taken a new avataar, worse than its predecessors put together. The spineless good-at-everything, but always-ill-treated daughter-in-law is more subservient than ever. She resigns to her fate and begs her husband to not protest against the atrocities committed on her. She even encourages him to take her mother-in-law's side for she is the head of the family. I want to slap them. Hard.

Sigh, I have been ranting most of the day. I really wish the wind would carry me away to a place with silence and sense.

Trust is probably the hardest thing to achieve and the easiest thing to break. You try and build it up to a crescendo only to plummet down due to a mistake/misunderstanding. Reason ceases to exist and life becomes a whirlwind of justifications, subconscious self-questioning and unconscious guilt. I guess its a part of growing stronger. As they all say.

The year's coming to an end and when I look back (reminiscing now) I feel strangely happy. Its been a quick year like all others, but different in so many ways. World views have changed. The world I live in has changed. Physically. Socially. And metaphorically. Its going to be a warm December, strangely. I didn't start the year with resolutions. I never do. In a way I have lost nothing. But, somewhere I have lost myself to the year. To the places I have been to. To the people I have grown to love. To the gushing river in which jumps were made. To the long late night walks. To the spaces of rehearsals. I wonder how much of me is left now. I am ready to lose more next year. To what? Only time will tell.