I am so unbelievably happy today! Not sure why. Maybe because April has begun. It's my birthday month. I love April. It's the equivalent of a splash of tobasco sauce on a dish of bland mashed potatoes. It's like magenta nail polish on fingers that have only seen French manicures. It's like a slip of red lace peeping out from under a serious grey jacket. It's the big, full kiss on the mouth when you're simply leaning in for a discreet hug.
I get a little crazy when it’s my birthday. I’m so thrilled to be born! Of course, it would be nice if people around me shared the same enthusiasm, but never mind. Some people just learn stuff late. That’s what I love about myself this month – this warm, muffin-sweet magnanimity.
Anyway, I have lots of plans for April. I am going to spend more time in town. I am going to plan my sabbatical meticulously. Will definitely create something during that time. Will practice yoga more regularly. Also meditate. And study something. Or at least do something that my mind can chew for a while. Like maybe write-up synopses of chapters from text-books. At night, I’ll be able to stare at the moon for as long as I want. I’ll go for the morning shows of films. I can take a bus to town during off-peak hours.
I can have cereal with warm milk and honey and read books for as long as I want. Any time I want. I can sip coffee and flip through each and every page of a magazine at dusk. I can wear shorts or little dresses and go out in the afternoon, feeling the warm sun on my legs. I love that feeling, by the way.
I can finally take up scrap-booking. Also, make the time to go the tailor and give her the 100 odd materials for stitching that have been accumulating for so long.
Every single night, I’ll write something about the moon. And play with kids.
I love the sense of possibilities that April brings. It’s just burnished with freedom!
I am just so happy! My heart feels like this box that has tissue stuffed inside it, so much so that it can’t hold even one more element that light and wispy.
It’s ironic that I’m at my most gleeful on a day that celebrates foolishness. That’s what I’ve always suspected, by the way – that intelligence is over-rated. I think it was Disraeli who said, “There’s a joy in delirium only mad men know.”
They may as well be synonyms, these words – ‘Mad. Happy. Free.’