The droplet

It was yet another long journey, like all working days, back home. My walkman phone was now tired of playing the same songs over and over again; flipping through the pages of Adiga's White Tiger seemed like lifting a mountain and putting it down again. I looked at the road and nothing seemed changed. A swanky red ferrari sped away, on the other side a couple seemed happy in their shimmering black BMW X6 and the bald goon seemed too pleased on his pacific blue HD rocker. Impeccably clean roads, unnatural greenery perched on the sidewalks and the slightly coudy sky.

Slowly but surely, nap tried to lure. My eyes closing and then half open and closing again...the nap sure did seem like worth surrendering to. But just as in our older bollywood movies, the heroine and her male counterpart are up to something interesting, there has to be an intrusion. My nap and I were intruded. A drop and another, and yet another. Oh my god, it was drizzling. I mean drizzling for real. Do not mistake my excitement for over reaction but do you know what a drizzle means in a desert. Miracle ! I watched the sky and the tiny droplets like a dieter would drool at the dripping chocolate sauce oozing from freshly scooped hot chocolate fudge.

And then it was there, right at my window. It refused to trickle down the pane. The tiny droplet looking at me. It clutched the window and kept staring at me, begging for help. It wanted me to take it away from the parched sky and it did not want to be one with the sand that would devour it to nothing. It wanted to fall from a sky that knew no limits, air that made it feel free and soil that bore many footprints but was its very own. The drop started to fall helplessly. I wanted to reach out and save it from dropping on the ground but I just sat still watching it fall. It kept looking at me and left a trail so that I may remember its existence. The drop stopped a moment before falling on the ground and looked at me one last time. And in that moment I felt us becoming one.

Sliced in 2 and served with deception

The number 2 is more important than number 1. Really!

All ones somewhere are two. The nose has 2 nostrils, the mouth has 2 lips. The human has 2 characters. Allright, allright...so this is what I was actually trying to talk about. Was trying to lead the discussion to the 2 us.

What I want to be.
What I want the world to perceive me as.

The unconventional me.
The conventional me.

The wild, rebellious and experimenting me.
The sober, sensible and satisfied me.

The me wanting to tear apart the rulebook of life
The me succeeding the test of rules

The me not caring about anyone
The me appreciated for how caring I am

The me wanting to drench in the rain till my soul is soaked
The me reaching out to the few droplets not even enough to wet my fingers

The me waiting to fly
The me trying not to fly too high

The me for me
The me for everyone

To be one, deceive not to be the other. To be the other, pretend to disapprove the other. Never accepting the 2 and yet keeping the 2 alive as a temptation.