Mai zindagi ka saath nibhaata chala gaya

Moving from winter to warmer times, now that the planet positions herself this way. A change of header:

thumbing a coat
      over my shoulder
cloudless sky 

This haiku by Christopher Herold draws an evocative picture of the carefree man, unburdened by baggage, stepping out into the world with very little. Even the coat he set out with is not needed any more although he holds onto it; there is a spring in his step, as few pesky thoughts in his head as there are clouds in the sky he looks upon. There is nothing holding him back, the world lies ahead... a faint air of adventure pervades the mood but his joy is not dependent on exciting happenings - this moment is enough.

The mood suits me very well indeed. It is a state that I aspire to but, needless to say, it is nowhere near accomplished. But we try, here and there, now and again, to drop our chains.

Also,  this haiku reminds me so much of our film heroes of the 60s. Graduation complete (first class, Ma!) and voila, there's an appointment letter to hand, giving him a plush sinecure as the manager of a well appointed tea estate. A bag in hand, and brandishing a guitar perhaps, our hero would set off, striding up the hill roads with pleasant dreams of a world waiting to be conquered. Love will come his way, he hopes, a love with red lips, thick black tresses that will shade and shield him from the harshness that life will bring.

There are many examples but at this time it would have to be Joy Mukherjee from Phir Wohi Dil Laya Hun. Not the tea estates but the gardens of Srinagar. RIP, Joy.

Back! and minutiae

This last month has been hectic. Shweta and I were away at Isha Yoga Center to attend a series of events - the opulent Mahabharat, the magnificent all-night Mahashivaratri party (which is attended by lakhs of people) and another rather austere program to round it off. An eventful, whirlwind of a month.

Now we are back with several bags of unwashed clothes, a rather daunting water shortage situation and the summer stretched out in front of us. And once more, the familiar problem of bursting cupboards and not having a thing to wear. As the washed clothes come off the clothesline and are folded, I am having to thrust them into the shelves and bang the door shut... and put off the problem of tumbling clothes till the next time I open it. It is quite dreadful. I need to cull and I don't know where to start.

Hyderabad is nice and hot. And dry, thank heavens. It still feels a bit odd because it was cool, even cold, when I left here and now that I return to distinct summerness, my sweatshirts are still handily located, whereas the shorts and singlets are still packed away. Tomorrow, it will ALL be done. ALL of it.
Today, we blog.