Nothing really.. just wanted to write. Please don’t go any further despite the keep reading thing i can’t do anything about…its mindless writing…
Guys I seriously hope, you don’t mind puttin these links hai 🙂 Please Don’t mind hai, though we don’t know one another…
N a sorry 😦 beforehand, if you mind hai. But hope you aren’t mad at me
Staring at the ceiling
Making friends with shadows on my wall
Hearing voices telling me
That I should get some sleep
Because tomorrow might be good for something
I’m feeling like I’m headed for a
Am out on the road.
5:45 on a winter Friday evening in Kathmandu.
Baneshwor again. The sidewalk is crowded with people.
The smell of fried street food and steamed momos. Good for the nose, bad for health. I move on. A boy sits on the railing. The countdown begins 25,24,23 people start crossing the road, I am one among the many.
Time for some coffee to stir my numbed senses.
The road leads, I follow. It is the same old place. Light brown settings and yellow-lighted atmosphere. Warm and cozy. Feels almost like hanging out in a friend’s place. But each time its different as it is this evening. Its houseful today.
I wish to go to a quieter place, somewhere inconspicuous. But I’m already in, and moreover it was a conscious decision. Look around and settle in one of the chairs after a moment of confusion. Feels like people, people everywhere but not a single one I know. I need to do something, just anything like write the term paper now. The journal and the printouts, I go through them once again, scribble on my notebook. (Wishing for a laptop). Writing helps, just like walking. Its therapy.
A familiar face arrives, I open my mouth to speak but he makes it easier by asking “ Milk Coffee?” he asks.
“Yes” I smile back.
I get back to my work. Wonder what she is upto. So send a msg “ H..term paper over?”
And before its delivered a get a call from her. Functional telepathy must be.
Makes the coffee date so much easier. C talks, I listen. I talk and I presume her to be doing the same…
Looks more like a Cup of Coffee at HOTS( a new place in Baneshwor)….
The coffee arrives.
A green cup. Reminds me of the first time I ever had a cup of coffee. I smile at the coffee on the table. Add sugar and stir.
The place holds memories.
Sometimes I come to go back in time. Other times I come to move on with time. I’m still carving memories.
Coffee. I answer.
The place is full of people, and I’m not feeling comfortable to be here on my own. I tell her.
She is always a solace. “ That’s cool. Think of a foreign universities, libraries, laptops and coffee. That’s hip.”
I go “ Yah man, I am already feeling better!”
Coffee and Conversations. A perfect evening out.
One cup leaves you wanting more. Two cups leaves you too full to want any more. Almost intoxicated.
We can’t afford to get intoxicated this evening. So its only a cup. Creating history again. Or else two is always the limit.
A cup to get in the mood.
Another to get out of it.
For life’s different outside the coffee house. We have similarities but we’re still not the same. But a moment shared is just fine.
Time to leave. Again this is the shortest time spent over a cup of coffee too.Another memory. Ha ha ha.
Life’s easier when you see the joy in every little thing that happens. Count the blessings and make a memory..
An evening walk would be perfect. But again the evening’s different. Have no time to kill, must head home.
A cup of coffee and no walk after that!! Making an evening with a difference again. But it so damn fine that I find it difficult to believe.
Talking to myself in public
Dodging glances on the train
I know they’ve all been talking ’bout me
I can hear them whisper
And it makes me think there must be something wrong
Out of all the hours thinking
I’ve lost my mind
I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell
I know, right now you can’t tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you’ll see
A different side of me
Unwell – Matchbox 20