The point in poetry

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 Woke up. Did one Surya namaskar. Prayed. Cleaning lady came. Made tea for both of us. Warmed up her breakfast. Roti, cauliflower sabzi and one sliced cheese. She kept the cheese back in the fridge. Doesn't like it.

My back hurt. I called up J. I call her up when I am not feeling well. She advises me something that I don't follow. Then she will call me stubborn and call herself wise. This will make me laugh and I will feel better. 

My heart felt tight and my stomach felt closed. It's been that way for a while. It's one of the days that happen usually when I start getting regular with meditation after a long spell of not doing anything much. Am taking really teensy steps now. This is my agenda now...I will do very little. But I will do them every day. As J.R.R. Tolkien said, "Little by little, one goes far."

Started work. It went well. I was satisfied with what I did. There's room for improvement. But I felt it's a good start. 

I looked out. Bandra was the chic, lush grey of a luxe cashmere scarf. It was raining. Rain fell softly. Felt like flutters of angel wings. Two wet cross perched themselves on the railing. One hopped inside for a second. The other peeked and stayed away. 

Today apparently was a very momentous eclipse. Today I came across an article that said that we are mapping dark matter. I looked through that article for as any indication whether this was fiction. No. It wasn't. We are mapping dark matter. I read that article again. And again. I don't know what I was expecting. Except that as I read that, I remembered a boy in the train had once said that physics was the generous science. You observe x amount and you imagine 100x. Never knowing that the world will ever find out the truth. And he had told me a little about dark matter. It was a short train ride from Dadar to Bandra so obviously I didn't learn a whole lot. But I remembered his description of Physics. A generous science. 

Mapping dark matter seems like that first kick of a child in the womb. Something's getting ready to be born.

As if on cue, the statue of Ma Kali shifted a little bit. (The cleaning lady had moved the table.)

Outside it was a regular Thursday. One of those days you become very aware that there's nothing regular about it. 

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