Grown ups and their childish games!

Sometimes you have to admit it there are rules to all games for a reason. There is logic, sense and reason to penalties, time outs, strikes, sent off’s, tackles, red cards, fouls, side lines etc. I often wonder isn’t locker room talk about the opposition games kids play? the real players play hard on the field. They play the game fairly and in sync with all rules of being in a team. Should one really like to play games shouldn’t they respect some basic rules? Where is it allowed to get away with hitting below the belt? Where is unruly aggression not penalized? How long has dirty pool been sustainable for anyone? When has a referee looked away at every unfair tackle? Do games where you sit across a table challenging wits, manipulating and conniving the other allow the pawns to not follow a path? Doesn’t even consistently lucky hands have to fold and give up bluffing eventually? How many times can one raise the stakes so dangerously so as to lose what they have? How many races have been won by runners tripping others? I just wonder and wonder if others wonder why must we play games that are no fun and convoluted.

I think people often mistake growing up with conveniently bending the rules of the game. Maturity for twisting facts to suit one’s self.

Even the most extreme and dangerous sport calls for personal digs being off limits. If one can’t respect the player, I suppose they should still respect the game!



Love at first touch…

“Would you believe in a love at first sight?
Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time.”


One thing always leads to another. Sparks lead to a roaring fire. Playfulness and spontaneity leads to commitment and responsibility. Little did I know that I would bring a stranger home. It was an instant connection. The second I touched him, he snuggled up to me struggling to find some warmth in my jacket and arms. I pulled him close and hugged him as hard as I could. All that has ever been said about falling in love is so true. I still cant believe I made a home for him at home. The attachment was instant and it just grew deeper. He had these soulful eyes that just make u melt into a puddle of love and affection and care and all that is fundamentally human. When I saw everyone else around taking to him immediately I realized that there are just few things that unite good and positive human streaks so strongly, genuinely and deeply. Everyone’s approval and desire that he stay permanently only aggravated my love. He really was my own and I loved him to bits. To date he remains the only boy who has been wholeheartedly accepted and approved by family and friends alike. I was absolutely elated to have met him. It felt right. It felt like it was meant to be. It felt mine. It felt for keeps.

I am still in disbelief that he’s gone missing.

Where ever you are “tiny” little lost soul stirring sweet puppy of mine, I hope and pray you are safe. I wish for you a home that you love and trust and a family who takes care of you immensely as you grow up. Also, you are most welcome to wander back. You know where I stay. I miss you. I really do. Every time I cross my drive way I  hope you will appear out of nowhere and run to me and whimper softly signaling me to pick you up into my arms. I sit alone in my backyard hoping its just a vanishing act and you will come back for our moonlit walks and escapades. My heart races every time I turn on the ignition of my car (since it’s the only sound/sight you hate) coz I am still hoping you will stubbornly park yourself in front of it till I did not get out to get you, Everyone’s been imagining that they hear/see you and I go on a treasure hunt whenever I discover a new clue, I instinctively put out your bowl where it usually was should you get hungry. I am leaving all familiar signs for you to figure out a trail back.

Puppy come here.

P.S. “You can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you a look that says, ‘My god, you’re right! I never would’ve thought of that!” Dave Barry

P.P.S. No one makes more effective puppy faces than puppies 😦


Of the few people who know me well, few of them have often in jest and sometimes in all seriousness asked me why I am not a real vagabond or nomad. I always figured it sounded like a good life. Not coz it looks good from afar but the little that i’ve tried it, convinces me it gives you unbridled freedom. The randomness in thought and action, the need to fulfill whatever you desire, the satisfaction in getting in and out of trouble, the attraction to things new and interesting, the no strings attached moments with strangers, the keeping people at a safe distance and yet having all the fun, etc.

But then I knew it was like any other high, it wouldn’t be sustainable. The reason there is society and the satisfaction in being a part of it just one in my head. ATTACHMENT. To people, to relationships, to some things, places, associations, sanity, ambitions, aspirations, memories. It makes life as surreal as being a detached vagabonding the face of earth. It is when you realize that the strings that bind you are actually things that are yours. It is the rest which is make belief. That chase which is hallucinating in effect. That mystery and risk that sends the adrenaline rush. The calm and peace of being with nature days on end. All of it is just seductive lies. And after you’ve been there and done that, it hits you new adventure and wandering and wander lusting are not the real high and overwhelming rush.

Rainmaker revisits!

Here comes the rain again


I look up and the sky is still dry..

Those rain clouds are such a lie..

Drifting by unapologetic and careless..

I longingly stared angry and jealous..


Little did I know it was the calm before the storm..

Those tranquil clouds transformed into a thunder bearing form..

Untimely, unpunctual, unseasonal, unruly, unexpected..

And am left rewarded, accepted, tested, grudged and affected..

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore..

“Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me,

sway with ease

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me”

Dancing is your whole body doing the talking for you. It’s honest expression.It’s seductive lies. Its holding on. It’s letting go.  It’s contained excitement. It’s unleashed madness. It’s tipsy toes. It’s trained movement. It’s the opening act. It’s the climax. It’s ecstasy. It’s exhaustion. It’s careless and wild. It’s controlled and choreographed. It’s skipping beats. It’s being in sync.  It’s compatibility. It’s differences. It’s soulful. It’s sinful. It’s smooth talking. It’s intimacy sharing. It’s bashful. It’s shameless. It’s giving in. It’s being cold. It’s private. It’s public. It’s unconditional. It’s movement. It’s music. It’s beats. It’s rhythm. It’s responding. It’s taking control. It’s conspicuous. It’s invisible. It’s traveling. It’s still. It’s saying too much. Its Silence. Its SWAYING!

P.S. “When we sway I go weak”