The Terminal

There is something splendidly uplifting about spending a night at the airport.
The city roads are silent with only the occasional goons decorating the roads and the occasional cop keeping them company.
But the moment u cross the threshold of the airport, a whole new world opens up.
It is an amalgamation of culture, a melting point of mankind, especially at night wen travelers wait for their next flight.
Diamond clad fingers lie
Iimp at the sides as the fat lady tries to take an uncomfortable nap on the chair.
The coffee machine brewing relentlessly, infusing caffeine into the reprocessed, recycled air of the departure lounge.
Snippets of conversations in all languages provide a subtle entertainment if u can be discreet enough to eavesdrop.
People walk around with trolley. Mother feeding her little one while she herself tries to keep tiredness at bay. Some kids swim in their dreams while lying on the airport floor while others drown themselves in the flashy screens of their tablets. Most seem without purpose and yet all have a destination.
The airline crew and airport staff work as if they have no concern with the path of the sun.
Actually at times I feel the only place where the march of the Sun across the sky doesn’t matter is the airport.
In a life where running towards our own destination means everything, a break at the airport gives you a sort of perspective about the canvas of your life.
You realise you are just a tiny character that GOD, the painter painted.
There is something splendidly uplifting about a night spent at the airport.


The curve of her waist

The curve of her waist has a thousand stories to tell
His tickle had made her double with laughter
His caress had made her scream with passion
He had devoured her when her long hair brushed her waist
The little skin peeping from her sheer sari had made his eyes blaze and heart melt
Her waist arched in abandon everytime he took her with fervour
The day he left, her waist cried a thousand tears
Missing his rough calloused palms on her bare skin
As she waits for his return
The curve of her waist has a thousand stories to tell

Sit back and Enjoy

Have you ever noticed that whatever happens in our lives is always a product of only two things? One is the choices that we make and other is the result of what Destiny dishes out to you.

Your choices are the result of the decisions you have made in life. Every crossroad in life has many pathways that you can tread on. Whether you chose your career over family, or your wife and kid over a parent or the new house over a new car or the boss over the subordinate, are entirely and exclusively your choices. And yet after having made them, we lament the loss of the other. Don’t get me wrong. We all have the right to temporarily exasperate, feel bad, get annoyed and even regret the choices we made, but only temporarily. Instead we inevitability end up feeling sorry for the choices, sorry for life the way it is lived.

And then there is Destiny. Evil destiny, laughing in your face – destiny. Destiny plays with people like pawns on a chessboard. Check mate and you are eliminated. Your partner means the world to you and destiny sweeps in to take her away. You have sacrificed an entire life for your business and one earthquake, you are bankrupt. Again we end up feeling, sorry for the life the way it is lived.

My question is, when it is your choice – impulsive or well thought off (that you have absolute control on) and destiny – evil or good (that you have no control on), that decided the journey of your life, then why CRIB? Why can’t we learn to dance in the rain, rather than struggle with the umbrella that refuses to hold steady in the storm

When it is inevitable, why not just sit back and enjoy it !!!!