slush and mush

This may be a little mushy for some, but I enjoyed myself when I wrote it a couple of years ago. The rains seem to have arrived at last, and I need to update my blog, so here it is...

RAIN.

Rain washes my window pane

Like the tears that bathe my face;

The muted rhythm of raindrops falling

Only echoes the half-forgotten music

Playing in my mind,

Music I never heard

Except deep within my heart,

Yet my every waking moment

Is haunted by those notes.

I see you, an ephemeral shadow,

Sitting by the piano,

Lost in the symphony of timeless Time.

The soft breeze caresses your hair

While you play for no audience

But the velvet blackness of night.

Clear, pure, like the tinkle of glass

Your notes fill my silence,

And the rain merges with your music

To heal my soul once more.

I become the keys your fingers awaken,

I am the rain that dances with life.

A typical working day in pictures

Get up in the morning, rush through my bath and breakfast, etc....it's totally synchronized down to the last second, so any unforeseen interruptions like lengthy, chatty phone calls, people who suddenly decide to drop in after their morning walks, and other assorted visitors throw me off my schedule. Days when there's no time to eat, I buy a frooti and that's my breakfast juice. I run out of the house, willing the hands of the clock to stop moving so fast, and (on good days) drive down to work. I like this drive because I leave the hustle and bustle of the city, and have nearly an hour's worth of peace and quiet before my workday really starts. Sometimes I sing at the top of my lungs once I'm out of the city, and I've also been known to carry out a conversation with myself:


My little cubbyhole of an office awaits me. I arrive, draw the curtains, open the window, get settled in, and either read up on my notes or work at my PC:

Then it's lunch, which I forgo some days; after my work is done, I wearily drive back the bumpy, torturous and winding 18 kms back. On certain days, I go straight to my part time job as an anchor for a TV station, which has to be located on the opposite end of the city. Believe me, it's tough to try to look good after a hectic day's work, but that's when the dressing room and the make-up experts weave their magic and I somehow end up looking at least passable:The show is Live, and unpredictable and therefore it is impossible to let down your guard. Depending on the guests for the night, it's either an enjoyable one hour that whizzes by, or a slow, excruciating sixty minutes that simply crawl by. I have been known to look a bit too animated on good days, and bored out of my mind on bad days, so I guess you can't win 'em all.
When I'm very, very fortunate, there are days when I even manage to squeeze in time with my family, and those are the ones that I really cherish, although, to be frank, some days I just want to crawl into bed and sleep when I have some free time, but pulling on those jeans and some enthusiasm is always worth it at the end of the day.


"Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans" - John Lennon.

PINE TREES AND YOU

Pine trees and you

Make me long to fly

Across the silver twilight

Into the abyss of the sky.

Pine trees, solitude

And you, are entwined

In the cool stillness of night,

Embalming my mind.

Moonbeams caress my face

Now aglint with silver streams

And trees silently scream,

Cut down, along with fatal dreams.

Recuperating

I suppose I can no longer put off writing about it. My health, that is. Not to alarm anyone, of course (or maybe alarm is a good thing, if that will ensure that you don't drive yourself too hard and end up in a sickbed like yours truly!) The doctors assure me there's nothing life-threatening (thank God!) but I guess my body has had enough of all the pushing-it-to-the-limits stunts I've pulled on it. Being sick is tiresome. It really is. Your mind outlines a zillion things you want/need to do, but your body just won't cooperate. And then you're faced with the humbling realization that contrary to your arrogant assumptions, you are not master (or mistress, in my case) of your own body, and no amount of will-power or positive thinking will allow you to perform tasks you once undertook without even giving it a second thought.

Actually, my body has been a pretty good sport. Right from last year, it meekly kept saying it needed a break, but kept quiet and submitted to my relentless pushing. This year, it simply has declared exhaustion, and here I am. Hmmm. Quite a lesson. Every doctor I went to over the last few months had advised me to "take it easy", a worthy piece of sensible advice I sadly found difficult to follow, so this is what I finally had to take instead:

(That's just my arm partially covered by a pink cloth from the elbows down, in case you are in danger of freaking out)
What I miss a lot is being able to drive my car, a beat up old Maruti 800 whose exterior belies the power of the engine underneath.
It's a drag having to depend on other people for transportation. I miss my independence. Boo hoo! In a gesture of defiance one day last week, I drove myself to work. Even if three of my physiotherapists hadn't berated me for doing it, I had already silently conceded defeat. I was in pain.

Well, on to more cheerful things. A few weeks ago, met fellow bloggers Illusionaire, DaGGylo, J, Vana and mIRC king Simjazz for lunch, which was really nice. I won't tell you who is who... but you're welcome to guess!

This is what I ate:
So, that's about it for now. In keeping with my resolution to take better care of myself, I will try to sleep early tonight.

Take care, everyone. Seriously. Take care.