There Is Nowhere Else On Earth That I Want To Be

Last evening found me sitting huddled in one corner of the bed with Ryokan. A pillow propped vertically against the wall held my back, neck and discomfort at bay. A glimpse out of the window disappointed me - buildings, and if I craned my neck until the top of my head touched my back I could steal a speck of the sky blue. Ryokan needs wind swept terrace on an evening, grey clouds holding the promise of rain, crows on TV antennae, Thatha's easy chair, and filter coffee. I remember many a times, while sauntering in the terrace, I would feel rain drops, look up to see the forboding skies and instinctively hold out my hand, only to be disappointed. Had I imagined it all? Such is my luck with rain and Madras. News of schools being closed there on account of heavy rains reminds me of the view from my bedroom window in 1997. It was December and I was silently thanking the fury of the cyclone for a surprise break during the half-yearly exams. TV brought in Ilayaraja and with it the feel of rainswept Madras. Time was suspended... for some time. I forgot Mumbai and and my irritation at the skyscrapers. Like an infant's smile, the extraordinary alchemy of words and sounds warmed my heart. All was right with the world.

The thief left it behind -

The moon at the window.

A brushwood gate

For a lock -

This snail.

"Enaith thaan anbae marandhaayo
Marappaen enrae ninaithaayo"