.rain, rain please be kind
It is now the time of the year when we have the most rainfall ever. I always love rainy days, the way i love coffee and books. I don’t want it to stop, but somehow it gets wild and heartless, paralysing the whole city.
I am missing home.
At nights like this – when the skies grumbling like a hungry tummy – i can never get close enough to my dreams. As if it is swiftly blown away by the wind. As if the night rains washed away all my hopes and fears, leaving me soulless and again, cleaning my own slate.
I ask myself a question a day on Twitter. It is just an attempt to give meanings and measures of my efforts – in a way that we should be grateful of every little thing that we have, or that even our smallest contribution could do some changes the world – so that i can put myself to sleep with satisfaction, every-day. These questions are prominent, pushing me over my limits and yes, terrifying. I don’t know where this idea comes from but it seems to move me away from bad habits – like a good distraction – but somehow, addictive. I think we all need our own bubble – to keep ourselves sane – especially when dealings with negativity, or people influenced by bad experience whatsoever.
Those questions are my bubble.
Remember the movie ‘I am Legend’? Every time i cross the campus for shorter route or just to avoid traffics, i imagine my small family survived such an event, hiding in one of the buildings. The harm is all done and away, just that we are trying to rebuilding what’s left of the world – or at least a part of the campus that reachable. There we then find another two small families, and a few survived students who have hidden in the underground armoury lab of the army. They have food supplies, tools and materials needed. One family has medical background, another is … ok this is where it usually ends.
I know. I hate it. I hate it even more because i don’t actually know why i would have such imagination. I have another one, i even give it a title “My name is Prakash”, and i swear, it is weirder.
And i hate it when i use a lot of ‘i’s in my post.
Wish for tomorrow: backache gone for good.