You can't always get what you want.

But if you try sometimes, you just might find that you get what you need.

Thanks Rolling Stones. Its difficult to stop wanting things but I guess one lives happiest then. Lower expectations and let things unfurl for themselves. Its true of tangible and non-tangible entities. But then are we allowed to let things unfurl for themselves? Is one free to exercise that liberty? Many argue that its all in one's mind. That if you want you can do exactly what you wish. Easier said than done.

The world is a gnawing place. Every corner of the body and every word breathed out is scrutinized, judged and commented upon. You might not ask for it. You might never. But you will get it. And it will be sharp, harsh and upsetting most of the times. It'll cage you in a box and feed you guilt till you crumble. You might see pretty sights beyond the bars but they aren't for you.

Funnily. we're all in boxes and as the adage goes. the grass is always greener on the other side. We appreciate each other's lessened restrictions. There is no such thing as freedom in its purest sense. Well, then again it depends on what one defines freedom as. Its such a relative term, like all others. Everything is relative. Nothing exists without the other.

I have a dream. I will have a small room to myself. I will have a cozy bed next to a warm fire place and a rack of books. Let it be a windy cold evening. There will be a window near my bed. And as I will rest my head on the pillow, the moon will peep into my room through it and spread its bright white light that'll sparkle the room. It will be a happy companion and it shall read with me into the darkness of the night.

I walked into that space after more than a year. It has changed so much that I can barely recognise the concrete I lived in for three years. The walls don't feel the same. The heartbeat is different, or rather has died out. Some areas still call out to me in remembrance. I have lived, loved and laughed there. Stood in the middle of the ground, that unfortunately doesn't exist anymore, and yelled to the first and the second floors. The trees still smile with warmth and welcome me. I don't want to go there again soon. Not alone atleast. I am not afraid. Just uncomfortable.

I don't have an end to this note.

Let there be light.

There is Cliff Richards playing in the background. The night is cool and the laptop warm on my stretched out legs. Its been a while since I wrote here. I have forgotten a lot of things that I wanted to jot. The month has been quick to pass. I don't know whether I am happy about it or sad or just plain neutral.

Ka and Music Room are still sitting close by with bookmarks a little more than half-way through. A thin sheet of dust on them tells me that I have neglected them too long. They need a hug and a flip. They want to be heard. I will hear them out tonight and let them lie near my thin blanket when my eyes close to wander in a parallel world.

The stage was set on fire. There was a splash of blood red. A flush of pink light. And three actors I admire a lot. The phone receiver was off. The milkman had raped one of the maids while having an affair with the other. The madame, dressed in black, more conscious of her fur than her imprisoned monsieur, refused to drink the cup of tea. It had ten sleeping pills. The role-plays had exhausted the maids. They sought salvation in crime. Domination turned into an obsession masked as love. But slaves don't love one another. Its filth. Everything was played to the hilt.

I have been away too long. It was my decision and I don't regret it. But there are times when I wish for things to be different. Wish that the choices from which I had to choose were different. Life would be different. I don't know if I'd like it more that way. One never knows. Thats the beauty of it all.

I will paint soon. Holding the brush to a canvas; letting the bristles tickle the cloth beneath. The cloth shall bleed the colours I want. There are far too many that I want. It will camouflage what I truly feel.

As I yawn I move towards my books. Its a far far better place I go to. Goodbye world. Let tomorrow unfurl well for all.

Even the stars sometimes fade to gray. Even the stars hideaway.

The year started a while back. Its halfway into the first month. I am yet to make resolutions. I guess it'll pass without any. Again.

Sweating in January on the terrace with pots of blood red paint, a cap and rolled up pyjamas. Good start, won't you say?

An evening was spent with a great bunch of kids who I have been working with over the past few months. They sparkled that night. I will remember it always; the gleaming faces after the show. A sense of satisfaction spread like a warm breeze. Comfortably numb I am now. Bittersweet symphony. I hope to see them again. Hopefully, sooner than I know.

Two books are being read simultaneously. Ka. Music Room. They're both very different. While one traces stories of Indian mythology like never before, the other follows a girl through her tryst with hindustani classical music. Both have kept me engrossed and they shall for a while to come.

There is too much music around. A bhajan being sung in a distant temple, the radio and my earphones. They are all merging to form a motley that has its strangely pleasant moments. The rest is noise.

I want to reach out for inner peace. Ciao.