The Happy Wanderer

How much is fact, and how much is fantasy? Winter mornings are dewdrops. They settle like the treble in a song, only to fade away like echoes.  I can hold them on my fingertips, but the next instant they are gone. Elusive. Just like peace. Just like people you don't really know. Come to think of it, I realize that everything in this world is transient. The barking of the dogs in the neighborhood. The incessant crying of a baby. The footsteps of the milkman. The steady, tremulous tone of someone making a point over the phone. The chatter of neighbors. Yet, only a few moments have passed before I can remind myself that transience is, after all, a tricky business. Everything appears temporary because it is warped by time and spaced into a fragment of its entirety. What appears to be a puzzle, is actually just one piece.  I am wearing the most concrete example of this irony of interconnectedness. Of permanence. Of durability. It wraps your hands and skin in the warmth of several i...

I don't know why this drill came to my mind today. My coach called it 'Board Balls'. I don't know what the official name is, or if even there is one. I remember it as one of the most taxing practice drills- both mentally and stamina-wise- for me, personally. It seems strange but it's true. I find individual drills and exercises simpler, because you have just one person to keep motivated - yourself. And you have just your own angst to face, and yourself to answer to, if and when something goes wrong. But with 'Board Balls' and team games it's entirely different. You have more people to answer to, more people to take along. You need to save yourself but not at the cost of throwing someone else under the bus. You need to preserve your energy. It matters not just for you, but also for the team. And you can't quit. One person misses, and the entire group needs to start all over again. The feeling of dissipating guilt as you mistakenly hit a weak board-bal...

 Coconut Tender as a coconut. Hard as a coconut. Light as a coconut. Heavy as a coconut. I wish I was a coconut Today... A double-shelled, strange coconut. They call those people coconuts Whom they cannot understand, Like tapping on hard rock but not getting hurt- Like knocking against the hollow And shaking a bowl of jingling water That is cushioned by tender walls. Well, maybe people could be coconuts They could have hard shells and tender interiors, A hard crunch but a sweet essence- I would like to believe so. I want to know why I'm fascinated by the coconut. It can't be solely because of its duality. It can't be its beguiling double facedness. What is it, then? I feel like maybe a shaft of light A hollow for each hard tap- Tears through the hard door. An intriguing belt of  adventurous light Wriggles out from apparent darkness. Mystery, mystery. That's what it is. The mysterious coconut.  It has a shell But it has a soul- Shell protects soul, Soul preserves shell I...

Sometimes I just wonder, I ponder longingly. On how much power it takes one To let things just be. I wonder how beautiful All that is around me, could be, If no one touched, tampered with or teased, Its inherent beauty. I think of atoms, electrons and protons, Neutrons and energy Matter and mind become one When we can let things be. I think of reactions, processes Forces- friction and gravity That created what would be a wonderful world If we would just let it be. Now I will jumble up my sentences And forget to cross the t's And won't wait for you to correct me, For I'll just let it be. 

 What does the new year mean to me? I don't know.  I think it just means that I can give myself another chance to try, fail, succeed.   I think it means that I can spend time with family, differently this time. I think it means that I can connect with people and with myself, in new ways.  I also think that it gives me a chance to see things with a different lens. The kaleidoscope becomes a periscope. I don't know what else. Every year, I put on a new pair of goggles. Every year, I grow, whether I try, or not. Some things may work as I had expected them to, some may not. But who knows?  I will allow myself to be Novak Djokovic in my arena, who hears his name when the crowd cheers for Nadal or Federer. I will allow myself to be Rafael Nadal, who always has a plan, no matter how bleak or bright things may seem, and sticks to it. I will allow myself to be Roger Federer, who glides in, serves, plays and walks out, all in grace and style. I will allow myself to b...