20th July, 2014.
Almost a month since my entry or rant here. Well, to be fair, there has hardly been anything that can get my level of boredom down to minimal, but then, things aren’t always so simple, or easy, or both. Yet, if I look closely, there have been some moments which I can possibly peruse to mention here.
To start with, as the results were out regarding our exams, there has been a serious turmoil within the small circle of people, whom I can call friends. No, I didn’t failed in my exams, but when one of us does, it really sucks; especially when the one I am talking about is fairly a good student. So one can possibly imagine the sheer shock he might be in. It took almost three of us to calm him down. Some outings, consolation, some scolding got him normalize a bit, yet the vestige of disappointment within him still persists. That will subside too in time.
Then there was the umm, visit to national gallery of modern art (no, I am not an art buff or anything, but the situation dictated that.) Bohemian was there too, that was a plus point. Well, to think of it now, bohemian’s presence was the only thing of any relevance in an otherwise mind numbing boring day, which would’ve went to damnation if the plan wasn’t made. I was um, given a word of a visit, which has not happened yet, so, fingers crossed I guess. I have this particular talent (*boasts) of waiting, so I will wait for that, but it would be good if that happens soon…the visit.
Monsoon has arrived in this god forsaken yet lively city. And as my own ritual, I never miss rains. Not a single one. So, this monsoon is a bit euphoric, nostalgic, and psychedelic or whatever adjective suits to describe it. I just go on the roof and sit there quietly until it either stops raining or I cease to ponder over things, whichever comes first. The subtle things and occurrences makes their way to the sandcastle in a very stealthy way, the suitable affairs that are going on these days are more than I can ask for. Moments, promises, and some silly things to confess…these are entirely new to me in their own entirety.
Then there are some other subtle moments of life, like inking the pages of my journals or finding some lost things from the yesteryears, which I keep in a box (habits…habits).
So, to conclude this ridiculous rant, I would just quote Virginia Woolf –
“Life is not a series of gig lamps, symmetrically arranged.”
Regards.
Almost a month since my entry or rant here. Well, to be fair, there has hardly been anything that can get my level of boredom down to minimal, but then, things aren’t always so simple, or easy, or both. Yet, if I look closely, there have been some moments which I can possibly peruse to mention here.
To start with, as the results were out regarding our exams, there has been a serious turmoil within the small circle of people, whom I can call friends. No, I didn’t failed in my exams, but when one of us does, it really sucks; especially when the one I am talking about is fairly a good student. So one can possibly imagine the sheer shock he might be in. It took almost three of us to calm him down. Some outings, consolation, some scolding got him normalize a bit, yet the vestige of disappointment within him still persists. That will subside too in time.
Then there was the umm, visit to national gallery of modern art (no, I am not an art buff or anything, but the situation dictated that.) Bohemian was there too, that was a plus point. Well, to think of it now, bohemian’s presence was the only thing of any relevance in an otherwise mind numbing boring day, which would’ve went to damnation if the plan wasn’t made. I was um, given a word of a visit, which has not happened yet, so, fingers crossed I guess. I have this particular talent (*boasts) of waiting, so I will wait for that, but it would be good if that happens soon…the visit.
Monsoon has arrived in this god forsaken yet lively city. And as my own ritual, I never miss rains. Not a single one. So, this monsoon is a bit euphoric, nostalgic, and psychedelic or whatever adjective suits to describe it. I just go on the roof and sit there quietly until it either stops raining or I cease to ponder over things, whichever comes first. The subtle things and occurrences makes their way to the sandcastle in a very stealthy way, the suitable affairs that are going on these days are more than I can ask for. Moments, promises, and some silly things to confess…these are entirely new to me in their own entirety.
Then there are some other subtle moments of life, like inking the pages of my journals or finding some lost things from the yesteryears, which I keep in a box (habits…habits).
So, to conclude this ridiculous rant, I would just quote Virginia Woolf –
“Life is not a series of gig lamps, symmetrically arranged.”
Regards.
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