In Vacant or in Pensive Mood

Since the time I remember, I've always been one of those persons who lived far away. When I was a kid, my home was only about 5 kms from school, but when compared to the other kids who could just walk up to school in a matter of 5 minutes, I lived far away. As I grew up over the years, the distance I've had to travel on a regular basis has also progressively grown. I did my Bachelor's degree in a place about 10 kms from my home, my first job was a little farther, and the college where I did my Master's degree a bit more. Well, you get the picture! It has never been far enough to stay in a hostel, but it has always been quite a time-consuming commute. Now, I travel roughly about 45 kilometres every day in my commute between home and work. Sometimes, I choose to ride my two-wheeler, sometimes I choose to travel by public transport. Either way, my journey is long enough for my mind to sink in and get lost in a world of thoughts. I have found that these journ...

She was uncomfortable, a misfit, and maybe a little quaint. The way she wore her bangs, the way her lips curled when she spoke; all of these were reasons for people to find her weird. She was unfamiliar with the local language, and she spoke English with a foreign accent; yet she looked very South Indian. That was enough for people to think she had an "attitude problem". People said she was a girl who looked down at others, so they stood far from her and judged her. She sat in a quiet forgotten corner of the classroom, right next to the back door that nobody used. It was perhaps her escape route. She had an excuse for not staying back after class like most others did to just "hang out" - a diploma class in the neighbouring college. Everybody called her a loner. For a brief period of time, a friend walked into her life; someone who seemed to understand her. She opened up to this friend like she hadn't to anyone else in the class before,  and they shared c...

A storm raged in the sea of her heart, Rapidly flooding her eyes; The salty waters gushed out, Desperately in search of respite. Drowning in the chaos of her stormy sea Which soaked her pillow and stained her cheeks, She almost couldn't remember  What sunny days used to be. As darkness surrounded her, And her tired eyes grew heavy, She gave in, almost gratefully, For a chance to escape reality. Drifting into another world, She saw clear skies and a silver sea, Calling out to her from the far end of a stretch of sand. With the morn she rose, Determined with renewed energy. Was it the restful sleep or the dreams that lay beyond That faraway land? One to make dreams come true, She set out in search of it. Because those frothy ends of that silver sea Had beckoned her to wet her feet. Led to its shores, without a thought She went on towards the sparkling waters, Reflecting a million sunbeams that gleamed Down on her fro...

Walking towards my office building one morning, I looked skyward and noticed a few eagles soaring overhead. As I watched them, I was reminded of the white-chested sea eagles I had seen at the Vandaloor Zoo a few days ago. I tried to see if the eagles soaring above me were also white-chested. But they were way too far up for me to see the colour of their chests. I stood there for some time, looking up and thinking how much fun it must be to fly that high up and not even bother to flap your wings. Even as I thought this, my mind switched back to a picture of the eagles in the zoo, and the contrast stung me. I felt a little sad for the eagles in the zoo, for obvious reasons; they don’t get to do those fly-highs they must be so good at. All they get to do is to perch on low branches all day and stare at people who stare back at them or click their pictures. But then again, I argued with myself positively, the eagles in the zoo are being taken good care of. They are all well-fed and ha...