Fields Of Jade

Many a time, I get back home a little too late to step out and a little too early to settle down, as a result of being disillusioned by the bright light at 8 p.m. Inviting you outside, nature seems to say "Come here, breathe me, discover me"
Human as I am, I do not protest. I go right outside, taking a different path everyday, only to turn back when I reach a dead end or a house or after I wave my goodbyes to the setting sun.

On these special occasions, I have with me for my company, my camera and ipod. Capturing moments, never seem enough, or is it that the moments never seem enough!
One of my companions today, needed recharging. Camera. After bidding tearful farewell to him, we (ipod and I) went about, yet again to discover a new evening… or is it night?
As Murphy should have it, today was the most beautiful of all our excursions and he was really sorely missed.

A 6 foot wide, long tar road, probably newly tarred, with bits of tar fallen here and there and the old tar road making its appearance here and there gave a feeling of déjà vu… remembrance of a land very far away from this beautiful isolated land!
First 500 meters this road was surrounded by small dunes of green grass on which were small white flowers sprinkled as if some snow had decided to stay there forever.
My first instinct was to run across these dunes. But to put my heavy foot on these delicate flowers seemed almost criminal. So I just felt them with my palms instead, took in the beautiful sight captured the image in my head and continued walking.
Next came a farm field… some crops. Radish? Maybe, maybe not. Who cares.

Dividing the two was a wild berry tree, laden with hundreds and thousands of red berries, most out of my reach. I wanted to eat all of them. This is when I remembered the sour grapes story.

"Deepti the vixen scanned the tree for a possible catch. One juicy bunch caught her eye. Being a slightly shy vixen, she looked left and right. No one. Perfect. Went across the 6 foot wide road. Not much of a stretch for a run is it?! Nevertheless, having no other option, she gets ready for the leap. And a miss. Just felt the leaves at the finger tips. She tried again and again and again. Oh Well, forget it, those berries must be really amazing, god is protecting them from vile vixens"
So I found another branch, with not so red, yet juicy berries very much in reach. Finished all the red ones off. I decided to go there again and fill up a zip lock packet of wild juicy berries for my family and friends back home.

I continued walking. The picture was out of a Van Gogh painting. Each blade of grass a different shade. The orange sky merging with the green grass in the horizon. Almost unreal!
I could not bear the fact that my camera was not with me.
I will go there again. With him.

But will the grass be so green again? Will the berries be so red and brimming again? Will the white flowers bloom again giving the appearance of snow? Will the sky be so orange again? Will a jet in the sky leave a trail in the in the shape of a smile in the blue portion of the sky streaked with fading orange, as I am admiring the beauty of the green fields, at the end of the road ?
Maybe, maybe not. But for now, I can spill this memory on this sheet of virtual paper, show it to others and see it again and again when ever I want, when ever I need.

Missing

There is no substitute to writing .

Anne sat by the window. As show watched the playful raindrops, a peaceful smile lit her face...but somewhere in her depths, she felt odd. A feeling that suggested she forgot something. She felt that way every time she left the city and invariably the feeling always proved itself right. She had once forgotten to put the milk in the fridge. Another time, the cupboard door wasn't locked . None of this had any particular damaging effect other than the constant worry which transformed itself into irritation and the same old "odd" feeling through out the trip till she remembered what it was. Today was different. It was a simple lazy afternoon. She was very much at home, and had no intention of going anywhere. She had woken up with a satisfactory yawn knowing it was going to be a lazy day that she wanted very much and deserved too. The day was as perfect as she wished it to be. Still the odd feeling ?? Had she forgotten to turn off the gas? No, she hadn't. Any birthday she'd missed ? No. Any TV program she particularly wanted to watch and had forgotten to do so ? No . The feeling now got worse. It had now transformed itself into a hollow feeling.

Odd to hollow. This was serious. She had felt odd before and hollow before.Separately. She had felt hollow when she had to shift homes last summer. "Dan, the movers are here.. where is your stuff ? Anne, I'm not going with you" He din't even meet her eye. He had closed the door on her and she had no choice. She felt hollow for months after. But the day she realised that planning french windows with someone who did not care enough to see it complete was not as important as it seemed in her head, the hollow had disappeared.

Odd and hollow. How these two feelings teased her. That too when she had forgotten nothing and was very happy and contended otherwise. This confused her all the more. "What am i missing ?? What is it that bothers me????"

Ding Dong!! Oh saving grace .. the doorbell ."Hello maam.. We need your help for a survey.Just a short questionaire. Would you mi..." "Yes"

"Yes , do you have a pen?"

The questions rolled by ... Name, Age, How long she had been staying in the house, how the security was around her area..

"Have you ever been robbed ? If so, what went missing ? "The last few words swam in front of her eyes along with the pen and the lines on the sheet of paper .What went missing...missing....

"Yes, I did miss something. I missed myself"

There is no substitue to writing.

Raman's Geography Class

Listen!". I Listened.So did Harish , Som and the others. Not that I wanted to listen.I had heard that before. Not that the others wanted to listen. They had heard it too, and it din't even concern them. But they had to listen to anything told by the warden , just because they were there. Alive. Blind , but alive. "You have done it again , you spoilt little bilnd bat.Sitting under a tree, missing out on your geography class. ...What!? thinking you say ? You ought to think. Not the nonsense your brain churns out.. but what you ought to think! I keep telling the master.You were better off in that mad house you came from. Coming here and spoiling the other kids. I'll tell you. One more class you miss, I will send you back !!" Please don't do that! I signed. "show me your filthy little hand." ..I showed. There was ice in the dormitory refrigerator.
Yes, I did skip my Georgraphy class. But not because I'm spoilt ! Master is the most patient man i've ever seen. He is also extremely interesting. I do like History , math and all the other subjects. Not that i dont like geograpy. I do think its fascinating. Maybe i'm wrong, but of what use is it for me! Everytime master talks about vast greenlands , I try to imagine. What is green? I have not seen it... I can imagine vast plain lands... huge grounds with nothing to trip on. I can run faster and faster till i get away from the whole world. I can sleep with my arms and legs stretched and feel the breeze in my hair. I can sleep however long i want to. No ding dong of the bell. No warden screaming at us sayin "Its morning, Get up you sloppy little lazy blind bats." No warden! Yes I can imagine the lands. But I also know that i can only go there in my imagination. Master talks about the yellow deserts. Yellow. Another colour. I wonder how it would look. I am still trying to imagine all the sand .I wonder if it feels like the heap of sand we were playing in when Uncle Murthy's construction was going on! Som even hid there , under all the sand , till warden found him. Of course, all the ice was used up that night.
I like geography. It gives me things to think about. Imagine. But i don't want to sit through every geography class, you know. It hurts sometimes. For, how much ever thought i might put into it, i know that the day i can see to verify it will never come.I know i'll never get to see green or yellow. So, i prefer sitting under a tree and thinking. Thinking about all the people i love, all the people i care about. About warden. Trying to imagine how he would look.Would he have a nose or two slits?Thats when i thank god i can't see. Thinking about what i would do if i could tell the whole world what i feel, what i imagine. Would they understand what i see?Would they try to imagine what i see? Can they? For, what i see has no colour.What i see has no substance. Its alive in my imagination. I wish people can , because i know its beautiful.
I like thinking once in a while. I like the tree. But i don't want to go back to the house they rescued me from. So, as many times as i possibly can, I will attend Geography class.

A Blank Title

A blank Page suggests more than any other page. Sometimes I think its unfair to fill it. Is it an identity lost ? Am I doing justice by filling it?
Are my words the reason for existence of this page or the page the reason for the existence of my words ?
There is something unsettling but at the same time calming about a blank page. Pure, Untouched , harmless and open. Free of opinions and judgements. Its like, the blank page and the clear sky are sharing a serene secret. We all like the clear sky and the blank page. A blank page is seldom crumpled and thrown. Yet there is this compulsive habit to fill it.... and then wonder if that was what was to be written , for now, the page has lost its original identity forever.. Its fate decided by the writer, it has become one among the mass. Sometimes its appreciated, rarely ever coveted and preserved.

Pages come and pages go.. but its the blank page that stays forever and ever.