at the end of another year of my life…

I wish I could feel your warmth next to me when I wake up.

I wish I could cuddle in your arms and just be while you play with my hair.

I wish I could take off from work on a busy day and hold hands at the mall.

I wish I could see you fall asleep without even completing the sentence.

Loving you is…

the surety of being loved for who I am and not being judged for who I am not.

the delight of knowing that you can laugh at all my quirks and queerness without ever hurting me.

the smugness of knowing that we belong together.

a dash of yellow

in an otherwise drab day

dipped in sunshine

beside a dusty path

lifts spirit

but hurts the eye

or is it

some other stray thought

that grain the inner

eye

unexpectedly

the bleep and the bloop

I am in ‘Satyam’ land. Hyderabad has definitely mellowed. A locality like Banjara Hills looked desolate at 7.30PM on a weekday. Strikingly different from what I had experienced last time. And here’s fool proof evidence of market nose diving. I call it the Auto-Con Index. This time to get to the hotel from office (less than 1km) the autorickshaw driver politely asked for 15 rupees. On my earlier visits I shelled out 30 rupees for the same distance, that too after a lot of cajoling! So that’s a straight 50% discount on the 'extra fare' and the politeness was a bonus. First I thought it was an one off lucky aberration. But same thing this morning. The first driver I asked was willing to go and all for rupees 15. Wow! I hope my fortune lasts next week when I am in Chennai. That will be the acid test!

But this trip is not without its share of bloopers. Hob asked me to get a Charminar and without thinking (which is fast becoming a habit!) I said, “What! When did you start smoking Charminar?...” His retort, not surprisingly was “Ufff…it’s so difficult to talk to you! Never mind….I wanted a miniature of the iconic….” Not good. Not good at all. Last week he said my ability to observe is poor (I would call it ‘selective’) and now this. Agreed, I present my deficient senses on a platter for him to pick on me, but still….hmmm.

at the beginning of the year...

reading this got me all nostalgic. I have always loved these big noisy family gatherings that were de rigueur since we were kids. Vacation time meant living in my grandparents’ house with our large family congregating from many parts of the country and filling up the large house to the brim. Our regular lives were parked aside and we gave up our privacy as easily as we laughed at the silliest banter. We shared bathrooms and beds. We shared plates and games. We clung to each other through our waking hours like we were joined at the hip. The generational lines blurred as the moments overshadowed the reason for gathering. Even when we met to grieve the loss of a dear one, strangely we were never sad for long. Over the years, parts of the family moved to far corners of the globe, grandparents departed for heavenly abode, the kids grew up but my fondest childhood memories are those spent sharing these moments of stuffy togetherness.

p.s.

A new day and a new year. Thank you for saying you love me. Yes, it does make my day. Everytime. And just like the first time it still leaves me breathless enough to go quiet (well you do have a habit of saying it when I am least expecting....so you see it is really your fault!). One of my neighbours are having a noisy bash next door. A moment back the indipop and item numbers blaring since evening were irritating. Now, I actually did a jig with the music. Life is good afterall. And just incase my words got lost in static...I love you.