Change

Change...everything changes...but change is an enigma...a mystery to the infinitesimally small being.The mind wanders at the change of season..at the change of day into night.As if all of these are the workings of someone beyond our knowledge and understanding......

An image comes to mind where it is eternally daylight...eternally summer .and all of the people are known to u....reason tells us that such a place must be a boring one.But it has security.Like home.

To imagine that today was the last autumn afternoon..the autumn of 2011..never to come back again....lost in the distant horizon with the slowly fading daylight...the mild cold breeze..and realizing.that so much  is going to change in the coming days.The mind is unusually troubled at such a thought...is reluctant to let go of the ways of summer.Is at apprehension of loosing itself and the small nothings it had gathered and the sentimentalities that have come to define it....Because wasn't the summer a change after winter?...now its winter again....and all that u learnt and the blankets that u gathered to provide ur fragile heart a home..are about to be replaced..

and it feels like i am powerless ...unwilling to let go......

its like a threshold that  has to be overcome to be at peace again with the winter...

and the mind already knows the sights and smell of whats coming...like meeting an old friend after a long long time....and u are uneasy about it... because its like falling again into the past..into the abyss of time gone by..to gaze at the face of it and to realize that life has not broken new grounds ...its again the same..the same.....to condescend  into admitting it to some one from the past...to whom u shud have moved on...
moreover its winter...and brings the smell of drying earth ..only to push you into sea of subliminal lives you have lived....that of a carrot growing under the cold earth...in the night while the frost drip down its leaves..that of an owl hooting from some tree...in the dead of the night...the sound of  gathered frost falling in droplets...to see an vision of purity like the times at nursery school and falling into a reverie looking at illustrations of  rhyme books..."Hickory dickory dock..The mouse ran up the clock"

LORD NOT AGAIN...NOT AGAIN

so lets order the drinks..and make it easy...and look out at the future ..of hundreds of summers and winters to come...and share the memories we have had together...and we know each other too well....to have a lot of talk ...

 ur silence at early morning....wrapped with the ashen gown of fog and like a mischief in my heart an image of walking alone on a distant hill ..listening to "piya basanti re "....wud be enough.......

music always accentuates a feeling...and the inner working of mind can fit any music to any imagery...
for me its the x files theme with this..