Blurry images of my life..

Flights, although not the most comfortable means to travel has a different feel to it.. Staring into the blue abyss, into an almost surreal world, the desire to free fall, the meandering thoughts, the wish to run amok into the white, the changing topographies, the strange comfort of the unfamiliarity, life for those two hours is idyllic, peaceful...

And at nights the all pervading dark although is a lil depressing, the beauty of looking at the city below is beyond words, as if the stars have come down for you, and you are going to a world far off, away from the dreariness, away from things that have held you back... it definitely gets the poet out of me...

Mumbai was a welcome break and had a good end to it... the beach making me miss company of a certain somebody... sigh, but Mumbai’s behind me and i am back to the mundane and the run around... but somewhere down even the mundane is peaceful...

Why do we call other people lucky? Why do we wish to be in their place in their moment of happiness and wish the contrary when a tragedy befalls them? I've learnt my lesson of never wanting to switch chairs or calling them lucky...

The end has begun... The freshers this time made for memories of a different kind... Sigh, college is coming to an end, you realise.. As my friends say, 23 is not the age you really want to be in... well, sorry I couldn't get the dreary tone out of this post. We live a disillusioned existence, we run after things we think will give us happiness only to realise how fate can screw things so badly... there's bitter after taste even after a job...

"the catches of life are like salt on raw wound..."