It is over 3 weeks since I have completed my M.Tech. Programme, 3 weeks of re-organising my life, picking up old threads, burying some hatchets and organising my thoughts.
My two year old son is playing in the next room, drawing my attention to himself every once in two minutes. My father-in-law’s radio is airing songs in various languages, sequentially. A sparrow chirrups on the window-sill, a dog barks outside. The sounds of children playing in the afternoon sun occasionally drifts in. In this remote suburb of Bangalore there are no buses to drown the sound of their laughter. This area is untouched by the vagaries of the city water supply. Here it is easy to forget, to drift, to dream. Yet for the first time, I do not wish to forget, to leave behind, to close the door on unhappiness. I wish to understand, assimilate and live better.
The true beginning of my story is in some pre-historic dawn. I can only begin at a suitable middle, carry it some distance and leave it at another middle and call it the end.
Comments on: "Feb 1991" (1)
nice!