Posted in Musings



As it settles comfortably around my chest, I feel a mix of relief and fear. This is all too familiar – taking a break and lying in bed, letting the mails crowd my inbox without breaking into my head. I know I’m going to regret this morning spent purely on printed words and dialogues speeding at 1.25x. I know I’d ask myself in another two days as deadlines overwhelm me why I spent an entire hour listening to the little yellow clock ticking away next to me as I contemplated how to fill the rest of my day. Why, I’d certainly be exasperated by even just the end of the day when I realise I’ve forgotten to send 2 out of 4 emails as promised to a colleague and watch the sky darken with her foul mood and indifferent texts.

I know myself all too well.

And maybe that’s why I let myself indulge in these stretches of time when the world feels still and liveable, when I’m not being submerged under relentless waves of thought, when I’m fortunate enough to simply smile and be.

Stop doing this! Another voice yells. You’re making it all too difficult.

You don’t get it, I whisper back. This is all I’ve got, these rare still moments of clarity. Let me be a lake for just a while longer, before the waves find me again. Let me listen to time stretching between the hands of a clock and fill the intervals with nothingness for once. Let me be free of chores and expectations, and spend my day staring aimlessly at a solo crack on the roof or a dangling cobweb, or shading the spaces between the letters of all words with myths of my own making.

Let’s worry about lost days another time. For now, let me close my eyes and breathe.


A wayward thinker hiding behind the facade of necessary courtesies

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