And you know that she's half crazy. But that's why you want to be there.

Though the temperature isn’t exactly as low as it should be, it does look like a winter morning. It’s gloomily cloudy and it smells cold. Yes, funnily it smells and doesn’t feel cold. You should be here to know what I am describing. I would love to go to the beach now. Lie near the shore. Let the water tickle my outstretched feet. Let the warm sand rub my back. Have my book in my hand and let the breeze turn the pages for me. Serene and solitary.

I have switched from the rib-tickling tales of a rebellious priest and his arch rival communist mayor to a treasury of Indian mythology. It’s beautiful so far. The pages are new, yet there is something antique about it. I guess its the ancient tales typed on them that make them different and special. I love the calligraphy on it. Reminds me of the calligraphy pen Pa got me a really long time back. It still has its price tag on it. I was always scared to use it. I know the shelf it’s on. I am far from it right now, but when I get closer, I will use it. Write something for Pa with it.

I am doing something I love more than anything else. It can’t be the only thing I do cause some things don’t change. Some opinions don’t change. But I am proud of myself in a strange sort of way; for having kept the embers of my passion burning all through. They will burn like this today. And they shall burn like this forever.

I want to learn how to weave a carpet. Inspiration: a beautiful picture I just saw of a man sitting behind the wooden machinery that was producing the most colouful piece of art. From barren nothingness arises a splash of design in colours of one’s choice. I know I’ll love the feeling after having completed a piece.

The TV has been endlessly screaming for the past several minutes now. And what is one it makes me nauseous; the sickening background music, intolerable voice modulations and the insufferable dialogues. Just why people watch it is beyond me. I pray sincerely that I never reach a stage where the TV becomes my best friend. Never.

Give me a canvas the size of a wall. I want to splash colours on it. Use anything but a brush to paint on it. Go unconventional. I don’t want to show it to anyone till I finish. Maybe I won’t show it at all. Paint it black after I am done. It will be something I made for myself. It will remain mine. Or, I’ll paint a huge Calvin and Hobbes on the white surface and worship it. Yes, I have a strange sense of religiosity.

And she feeds you tea and oranges

That come all the way from China

And just when you mean to tell her

That you have no love to give her

Then she gets you on her wavelength

And she lets the river answer

That you’ve always been her lover

And you want to travel with her

And you want to travel blind

And you know that she will trust you

For you’ve touched her perfect body with your mind.

Suzanne- Leonard Cohen

Jupiter is catching a bus this year.

I turn the music up, I got the records on

From underneath the rubble sing a rebel song

Don't want to see another generation drop

I rather be a comma than a full stop

Its the penultimate month of the year and as always, it seems to have come too fast. Its been a life changing year, like every other year. A lot of new people have been met. Old doors have been knocked. Unperceived goals have been sought. Familiar places have been re-visited. A few favourites have been revised, furnishing the pages with more fingerprints. New books have been inked to the list. The taste buds have feasted more. The nights have been haunted with bizarre dreams and the feet have tread more gradients. New hugs have given warmth, while lost ones have been missed.

There are heroes in the sea weed

There are children in the morning

They are leaning out for love

And they will lean that way forever

The Jupiter is closest to the moon today. Apparently, it happens once in a hundred years. Hmmm, I feel historic, now that I have witnessed it. But it isn't the breaking news on TV. For once. The sky has always been an intriguing space. Small dots, that are actually magnanimous in size, wink every night- tirelessly.

The buses haven't changed and thankfully, neither have their fares. The conductor gives me a glace of recognition. He's seen me before. A gazillion times. Its the same girl who lost her balance every day, while trying to hold on to her several bags, sanity and the pillar together. Its been a couple of years, but I have still not lost my charm. I still fall. I still stumble. I still like my bus.

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend

Somewhere along in the bitterness

And I would have stayed up with you all night

Had I known how to save a life

The Colour Purple beckons me now.

P. S.- The lyrics incorporated are a result of my listening to them while writing this. And the title, well lets just say that a fall in the bus shook my sanity out.

Harry Belafonte, I Love You

Well, it started in Vienna not so many years ago
When not enough folks were getting sick
A starving young physician tried to better his position
By discovering what made his patients tick
He forgot about sterosis and invented the psychosis
And a hundred ways that sex could be enjoyed
He adopted as his credo "down repression of libido!"
And that was the start of Doctor Sigmund Freud

Well, Doctor Freud, oh Doctor Freud
How we wish you had been differently employed
But the set of circumstances
Still enhances the finances
of the followers of Doctor Sigmund Freud

Well, he analyzed the dreams of the teens and libertines
Substituted monologue for pills
He drew crowds just like Will Sadler
When along came Jung and Adler
And they said by God, there's gold in them there ills!
They encountered no resistance
When they served as Freud's assistants
As with ego and with id they deftly toyed
But instead of toting bedpans
They wore analytic deadpans
Those ambitious doctors Adler, Jung and Freud!

Well, Doctor Freud, oh Doctor Freud
How we wish you had been differently employed
But the set of circumstances
Still enhances the finances
of the followers of Doctor Sigmund Freud

Now the big three have departed
But not so the code the started
No, it's being carried on by a goodly band
And to trauma shock and force us
Someone's gone and added Rorschach
And the whole thing's got completely out of hand!
So old boys with double chinsies
And a thousand would-be Kinseys
They discuss it at the drop of a repression
And I wouldn't be complaining
But for all the loot I'm paying
Just to lie on someone's couch and say confession!

Well, Doctor Freud, oh Doctor Freud
How we wish you had been differently employed
But the set of circumstances
Still enhances the finances
of the followers of Doctor Sigmund Freud