99, 98, 97

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A more efficient way to pack for trips between Bombay and Pune is required.

Yesterday I was texting someone about a strange event - of when I had had an eerie experience at the Race Course. Maybe my mind started playing tricks but I got the scent of stables. Reminded me of the line from Richard Bach's 'Illusions' where he says something along the lines of why it's futile to miss friends. Because as soon as you think of them, aren't they already there?

Some sweet things are happening.

Also, I was just thinking that we don't remember when we were born and then we don't know when we are going to die and how can we think of anything that happens in between as reality?

Interesting that I thought of this after citing an observation from 'Illusions'.


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