A Tryst with the City...

Out in a city, so familiar and yet so strange. Walking through streets unfamiliar,unknown to me in a city I claim to know so well. It was one of those long weekends, when you plan to run away into the hills ...what do I say so was I longing to run away from the hustle-bustle of the city. Claustrophobia. And then a sudden decision to walk out with a kindred spirit into the lanes of this city that has taken me in...Both of us in different places in our lives, caught up in our own preoccupations, stepped out to experience this city that had made us what we had become. She, cherishing every moment as she prepared to start over anew, me an unwilling tourist in my own city.

Something about the rooftop restaurant, Sam's Cafe, hidden in a corner of one of the streets of Paharganj, touched a chord in me, making me feel like I was in a new place, a side I had never seen before to a city so familiar.Something about seeing the city in a different light, from that rooftop, answered my wanderlust and made me find peace with myself, putting the restlessness stirring within me to rest for a while at least,if not for good. As we both sat there , lost in our own thoughts, no necessity of conversation, the ease silence settled in, oh so precious and rare and only possible with truly close friends.

Conversation interspersed with bites of food and sips of beverages of our choice. She, looking around disinterestedly, me scribbling away in my journal. Conversations surrounded us, some in foreign tongues, some familiar and some just static. But there we sat, preocccupied, satisfied for the moment, over a meal, as the lazy sunny Saturday afternoon gave way to a pleasant evening.

We sat there, lost in our own thoughts,watching the birds fly homewards...

Sometimes Me...

Sometimes I want to fly,
Sometimes to stand still...
Sometimes I am a fighter
Sometimes I struggle to survive.
And then there are times that I gush like a waterfall,
At others still am as still as a smooth flowing river.
Sometimes am a dreamer,
Sometimes a cynic...
Sometimes questioning
At others all knowing...
Sometimes the student
At others mentoring.
Sometimes game,
Sometimes unwilling...
Sometimes emancipated
Sometimes repressed
And now something stirs deep within me...
A divine discontent
Of what was
And of an innocence lost
An overwhelming of the self
With inner struggles and private conflicts,
With things said and others left unsaid,
With loud victories, unvoiced expectations and quiet disappointments.
Adulthood or self discovery?
No one knows
And no one can tell...