Lately I have been yearning. Not for home as I usually do. Not so much for company either. It is a strange yearning, a pull almost.
I am on standing on the edge of a cliff (titanic style, arms spread out) with a 'slightly stronger than a breeze but not a full blown gale' wind blowing through me. Yes through me. There is green vastness around. And water. Large, unhindered expanse of blue water. No one inhabits this land. No one around for miles.
I do not know how I got there. I do not care how I will get back. All I know is this is where I want to be. It calls to me.

Mango people

kisi ko muqammal jahan nahin milta
kisi ko zameen aasmaan nahin milta


But I do not ask for the sky and the earth
I do not even ask for my worth
I simply ask for my due

I do not ask for food but sustenance
not for life but existence
Maybe a bed to lay down at night

I do not ask for the earth and the sky
but when I am no more
maybe a place to light the funeral pyre

It is strange that I tend to revive this space when I am weighed down by tons of work. Is it the most guilt free procrastination? Maybe. I shall not question. I shall only type.
My laptop has gone for a rehaul, hit as it was by a virus of monstrous proportions. One possesses enough gadgets to entertain oneself but the laptop is irreplaceable. Even the, ancient but trustworthy, temporary replacement that now graces my desk does not push me to work the way my laptop did. I just pray that it makes a complete recovery by tomorrow.
I know a lot of people that need cheering up. Self included. There are uncertainties to battle, scars of battle to overcome and problems that are beyond one's control. But as a family we are not good at letting go. We fret specifically over things that are beyond our control because the things that are in our control are solved.
And the worst part is that work is no longer serving to take my mind off things. The last time I felt so bluesy was during the fag end of the PhD.
I guess I just need to chant the mantra 'I love my job, I love my job' and hope that the To-Do list rapidly becomes the Done list or else I'm in for it.
I long for friends in close proximity. I long for someone not to tell me that it will be ok but to agree that it is sh*t and that they hate it too. I long for companionship of the self pitying kind. If only for a while.
I sometimes wonder at the saying 'Everything will be ok in the end. So if it is not OK it is not the end'. I don't want it to be the end. The end might not be the fairy tale that I'm hoping for.
For now things are strange. Feelings are odd. Life is in a state of flux. Only hope reigns supreme - but only in fits and bursts.