Thought that counts

The platelet count – famously dubbed as hi-fi disease for hi-fi people by my buddy – is back to normal. I can sleep proper. The fever has now vanished, along with the accompanying squeeze. After an unexpected rest – a la roi – over an extended weekend, it is business as usual. I work, listen to music, talk to people I like and I read. I stay cheerful also. One must always strive to. It's one way of being wise.

Winter is in its last throes in Delhi. I am pleasantly wakened by the morning chill, which reminds me of Kashmir. As I paced this morn, I sensed that things around me -- door, wall, the floor were all very solemn as if trying to creak their responses to my every query. I love this unsettling feeling. When the most surprising things occur at the most importune times.

Nobody feels likes to sit back and do nothing on a fabulous day. You’d prefer a slow waltz in this weather. The thought came to me like an amatory chess game as it tried to masterfully lure me into it. Until I shrugged myself free of it. You can’t afford to allow your heart ramble too much. You can’t continue to expect the unexpected. You can only try and be good in the heart.

I saw flamingoes fly in my dream last night. The pack seemed to shimmy in and out of my dreams. I too tried to fly with them but couldn’t. At times I think I possess the heart of a child – so naïve, so alone. Thinking of things, no more mine. Enamored. Childlike. Often it takes a lifetime to understand the logical and illogical limitations to the realm of the heart. And doubts still linger.

Life is a whole lot less complicated.
It is love that makes the world go round. It is the feeling. The good in us.

After all, it is the thought that counts!

Samy