Lyrical lines

Avril – variously called April also -- is in its last lag. Another month slowly slithers by. Life continues in this humdrum. I’ve been trying to attune my being, keeping pace with work, home and friends. I’ve somehow managed to keep myself occupied with stuff I love to do – read quality works, jot erudite stories for the Energy basket, run on the treadmill and listen to music. I’ve -- however -- not been able to catch up with my buddies. The travesty of it is that most of them are away, some are near yet far away and some far away yet so near to my stupid heart!

Life is good. Steady. It is not perhaps as exciting as I would like it to be. I reckon it is a realm where colors harmoniously recite magnificent poems to each other. As friends, we realize that we sing the same songs that lie deep in our souls, regardless of the words.
Come July Hadi, my childhood pal, is getting married in New York. I’m invited but I don’t know if I can make it. Salah has now graduated from the prestigious London School of Economics. These days Tanseer is happily skipping his dinners in the oil rich, Baku. Some prob with his weighing scales, I surmise. Suhail loves to zip on the winding, pine-scented roads of Kashmir in his waxen car. Wasy is perpetually busy – with a longish list of things. Jatin has been recently frolicking in Arizona and continues to be quietly dandy.

That leaves me to myself. I remain as always romantic, comical and open. I still do everything – from writing poems, which I don’t post on Internet anymore to cook my own food – with a textured velocity. My eyes are distant at times, lost in my childhood and my fancies. I laugh aloud. My laughter makes all optimism seem so inadequate.

That is my idea of life. Keep smiling. Laughing, if need be.

Sameer