Chiffonesque

It has been nearly 42 days since I have left my job. In this time, there has been some traveling to a few cities, visiting friends. Some I have visited earlier, like Hyderabad. It was an instantly sweet, simple, spiritual connection. Tufts of cotton-y clouds, large timeless rocks, and evenings that don't let go without a fight. The beauty here didn't exactly leap out. But one studied it long enough and a few minutes later, wherever I looked, there was art. Bangalore I visited for the very first time. Struck me to be a supremely refined place. There's restraint, gentility, a very Little Lord Fauntleroy charm about it;  like no-one would raise their voices unnecessarily, no-one would be gauche enough to jump a queue, no-one would dress up with one eye on the crowd gauging if they're being looked at. So proper.  And then, the trees. Oh gosh, the trees! They look as timeless as monuments that get unearthed centuries after civilizations have vanquished. I remember walking ...

To stop the search And one day find, The symbol of a notion You'd left behind In the dust that sometimes a yesterday grinds Tied to a link to which a future sometimes binds Then to see the symbol Of a tired memory Limitless and miraculous Like eternity And heavy and nebulous droptlet Like mercury It wasn't the soaring sky Or the roaring sea My symbol of freedom Was a thick, full tree Note: My first trip to Bangalore. This city has made me notice trees for the very first time.

I was on the terrace around six in the morning. The plan was to get an early start to the yoga, because I really have a lot to finish today. I have to go to Saki Naka and Bandra and pack for a trip to Bangalore tomorrow. There is tons to do. But the terrace looked so lovely. It was littered with dried leaves and had little puddles of water, courtesy the storm last night. These puddles looked blue-black in places and almost purplish-brown in others. The leaves, wilted and astrewn, looked like tired children at an amusement park. They were sulking to go home and sleep. Clearly, the wind and the rain had had a wild time here. And the guests were clearly pooped. I pushed the agenda of yoga for a couple of hours later. Made a cup of tea, cosied up on the sofa and watched the sky molt and melt into different colours. First, the sharp violet tinges got erased to a soft flamengo pink. Then some edges of clouds unfurled to a cottony whiteness. And then, remarkably,the whole expanse...

As I write this piece, there is a storm outside. I see maddening sways of trees and orange, pink and blue kandeels do an eccentric jig. The wind is furious. Doors and windows slam, but they do seem to be enjoying this tussle. The wind chime hung above my window chirps and tinkles like a pretty little princess at the Mad Hatter’s party. This storm may have started just a few minutes ago, but it seems age-old. It seems to have come from the bowels of time that is almost Bronte-type. Dark, huge, unwieldy, unyielding, moorish…There are deep rumbles of thunder, and strong, shaky juggernauts of lightning. There are clangs of temple bells sounding off in a part of the world I cannot see. From some insane labyrinth, there come roars of waves crashing against tall, jagged rocks. I can’t spot them, But I know how they will be. This storm is old. The air is wet with promise. It is full of clandestine scent of lush rain. This will come later, when the world is either asleep or unprepared...

I have quit my job. October sixteenth was my last day. I remember because the sky was infused with a vibrant blue. Looked as if a peacock had dissolved into a puddle. Its feathers had come asunder and were now filaments of white icy lightning that flashed across the sky. Why did I leave my job? My heart said it was time. It was a sudden decision, in the sense that I did not look for another job before resigning. It did not feel sudden, though. It felt complete and peaceful. It felt like I had moved from one loop to another on of one of those link bracelets and the time had come to close the clasp. Currently, I am sending out the resume and some carefully selected sample articles to pitch for work that will make me happy. There has not been much time to write the blog. I traveled to Delhi recently and came back full...of love and happiness. So much so that my belly aches when I think of the awesome simplicity and serendipity I enjoyed there. Now, I wake up. I go to...