Walking...Rickshawing... streets...

Each step I put forward at my pace on the white painted line beside the pavement is slowed down in my conscious mind. I can feel the ripple of the hard concrete on the sole of my foot as I walk.

The man held the cigarette in between his fingers for too long. The ash forming at the end of the cigarette extends, the ash loses balance, a soft wind blows, the ash slowly detaches itself from the roll, and dances through the air, twirling, waving, flowing as it gently settles on the muddy ground.

The wrinkled, forlorn old woman wearing a green and pink embroidery saree looks on at the cigarette man expressionless.

A beggar approaches me, child in hand and one nipple showing, and asks for money. I turn my face from her and nod in negativity. She adjusts her blouse, hides her pretty nipple, and begs again. I nod in negativity again.

A man rides his Honda Splendor. A woman is resting on his back, her arms wrapped around him, his elbows tightening the grip of her arms. As he lets go, her arms drop off to his legs. Balancing his bike, he adjusts her arms putting them across his chest. As he drives, her arms fall off again, and he re-adjusts them. And again, and again. Then, he lifts his left hand, balancing the bike with his right one, and feels her mouth and nose. She is resting on his back, her eyes closed. He then re-adjusts her arms around his chest. And this continues… I lose sight of them.

Two boys on a bridge above the river sit naked on the footpath, talk to each other as they shit. One of the boys is playing with his penis as he talks and gestures with his other hand. The other one listens to him attentively.

A bee sits on a flower and takes in pollen.

A group of young students dance and sing bollywood songs in the streets as they walk. One of them, collar up, gel in his hair, with an air of confidence a la Muhammad Ali, steals a few pakodas from a street vendor. The vendor, reading a newspaper, lifts up his head, looks at the boy and goes back to his newspaper.

I drift away.

I am ten thousand meters above sea level; her head is on my shoulder. Her hand resting on my hand is my happiness. L’amour est une mélancholie. I close my eyes and relive my happiness.

Outside on the stairs of the hotel, in this beautiful unknown city, my bags are packed and I wait. Solitude and a destination to go to… Beauty and hope of fulfillment…

I am back.

A grey Santro with the registration number MH 12 CY 2289 is honking although the car in front is at least 10 meters away.

The sun is hiding behind a tree.

Balance between awareness and getting lost in another world…

Living…

2009 - The humpability factor

I experienced what it feels like to go full circle in one year. I started 2008 in Kerala and ended it there once again on a houseboat with a white skirt, vodka in hand, under the stars discussing philosophy. I found out that if you want to check your growth level, putting yourself in the same position, at the same place in a different timeframe is a pretty good way of doing this while studying your thought processes. I changed since December 2007. It’s a change that brought a smile to my face; I preferred my thoughts in December 2008. More than anything, this trip was about spending time with people who liked to do similar things, and laughing. And laughing is good, laughing is funnable.

2008 helped me achieve one of my biggest dreams. For the first time, I found myself below the equator, for the first time, I found myself traveling on my own for 2 months, for the first time I found out what it is to be a backpacker, for the first time, I attempted a tango, for the first time, I found out what it is to let go, for the first time I flirted and danced with depression (it’s a good thing that I’m no good at neither flirting nor dancing).

I went to South America. I saw Buenos Aires, the Glaciers, Machu Picchu, Arequipa, Los Uros, Sao Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, Salvador da Bahia, Chamanda Diamantina… among other places. I saw that it was possible to do something if you wanted it bad enough. One may need to make adjustments, but if one perseveres, one can still get the whole package that one wants. Patience, perseverance and will. Life is good.

I hope now, that my first blog in January 2010 will be one where I say, I have managed to create a 2009 where I am living independently, in a city that I love, I would have explored more places, I would have grown spiritually, I would continue to avail of the resources – monetary and otherwise – that I currently have, and above all, I would be experiencing love.

I am looking forward to 2009.

:)