Back From the Dead. More Like Undead

I'm trying to make a 'comeback' to blogging. Like most, much hyped comebacks in Bollywood, this one too seems to be like a disaster. My next attempt will be an item no. An attempt after that will have a to be a reality TV stint. I really don't want that so I'm going to make this a successful piece.

Where do I begin? Should I tell you about my trip to Kasol, in Himachal Pradesh? Oh how I yearn for that trip again.

Just wandering around hills and streams, eating delicious food, sitting on a huge rock in the middle of a stream and reading a book and falling asleep in comforting sunlight.

I am just making it sound more romantic than it was. Memories afterall are stories we tell ourselves. John Slattery's words not mine. We blur the parts we don't like, enhance the brightness of particular portions and ignore everything else.

Coming back to the Kasol trip. It was life changing in many ways. Back from the beautiful hills I decided to quit my job and figure out life. This was followed by more trips to Pondicherry, Kodaikanal, Calcutta, Delhi, Jabalpur, Kota, Ladakh, Gokarna and now I've reached a new continent.

Though I still haven't figured out my life. Some more wandering and wondering will be necessary to get to the bottom of this. While I do that I'll try and write more, a lot more. The one thing I did figure out was that writing is the only thing that can keep me alive.

Keep an eye on this space for my next item number. It might just be a blink and miss cameo.

Oh and here's a picture from Kasol, year 2013. ©

EMPTY MIND 1

Empty heads make a lot of noise. Here's some noise from mine. Blame the flight delays and airports for this ramble. As the title suggests, there is one more.

Characters. There are so many of them waiting to be discovered, observed and told about. A man having lunch alone at a busy restaurant, commuters waiting at a bus stop or just someone trying to cross the road. Each one of them has a story to tell. Each one of them is a protagonist. Not in a story that matters to you or me, but a story which is very important to them.

Sitting at a busy Bangalore airport on Christmas morning all I could see was interesting faces. Interesting characters. Most of these people had probably spent a lot of time at the airport due to flight delays. Tired and hungry they had no option but to wait. Like I said in a very classic phrase to my room mate the other day, 'the waiting is killing'. It's my copyright, don't mess with it.

Coming back to the point, travellers are the most interesting people to observe. There is one set which is all keyed up and ready to just keep going, the other would rather be home. While the romanticism linked to the idea of travel appeals to one, the other does not find it romantic at all.

So, does the bus driver driving an inter-city enjoy travelling or he has to travel because someone who enjoys it has to travel. The daily wager also travels from his village to the city on a local train or bus. Catching the train on time or finding out the correct platform is not adventure for him. So, is one person’s romance another's despair? Or one person's obsession another's aversion?