Hypotenuse

Crib quota of the day is over. Missing my city is a continuous phenomenon. I have learnt to live with it.
Memories are sweet and linger in my head like the smell of lilacs.
The train chugs at its usual pace. All kinds of women sit, chit, chat, stare, wonder, ponder.
There is something in the wind. It isn’t love.
Music plays in my ear even though my ipod stays hidden somewhere in my backpack.
Dinner is homely. Children can be so philosophical. Return of innocence. And sense.
My best friend is coming for 2 months. Such joy has gripped my heart.
Safety net of friends comes to rescue. I am covered till August.
Am I a social butterfly? He says that. I just like meeting my friends. Such angels.
The sea is mighty and violent. The rain drops hit my ageing face. I can be so dramatic.
When do I wear my white pants? Muck and dirt engulf this monsoon wrecked city.
Bob Dylan. Such great music. Courtesy Pix.
The bed is big and cluttered. Because it is big I sleep diagonally. I am a hypotenuse.
Somehow I am not upset anymore. This is life. Live it.
And what is life?
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind.
The answer is blowing in the wind.