Friday, January 13, 2012

happy hours

from the terrace you could see the most beautiful colours -- golden pink and orange lending a sunset backdrop to the tall airtel tower.

it was a pale green house, nestled in the thick overgrowth that fringed the railway tracks.  an alarmingly tall weed plant once sprung up near the compound wall, growing to fame very quickly, and disappearing as suspiciously as it had appeared. when it rained, the ground would get muddy and slushy, and the mud would suck in the rolling wheels adamantly.

all the residents of the house had great big hearts, including the dog, who had a special online presence. we ate, drank, watched movies, laughed, philosophised, tripped. all of us who went in came out with stories. chappals were chewed up by the friendly neighbourhood cow (who was accused of eating up the weed plant too), monkeys stole chocolates off the window ledge, five computers mysteriously disappeared one day.

there was the familiar noise of people playing dota/cs, there was music playing on the comp outside, there was somebody watching a movie, everybody chilling. there was a nice, cosy drinking spot near the water tank that always overflowed. there was peace lazing around and it was contagious.

the house is painted purple now, the weeds cleared up.

Tuesday, January 03, 2012

under this ficus tree

lesson learnt last year: beauty is attachment. if we were all detached we might as well be inanimate. 


we've been put here in this world to be worldly.
what's the point in withdrawing?
what's the point of trying to find reasons? 
what's the point of trying to find a beyond? 
life's too short.
there is only here and now. 
take at face value, i say. be materialistic, be happy.

this year, i shall strive towards being horrifyingly superficial and delightfully shallow.