Outside my window seat.

Outside my car window rushes by a world that I’m no stranger to, yet one that never fails to add something new. Every time.

My car rages ahead like a bull in a hurry. Beautiful towns and their people seem to race backward in tandem with my car’s acceleration.

There’s so much to see, feel and embrace. Nothing to converse about. Conversations kill the moment. Silence is sometimes the best friend.

A town wakes up to the morning sun.
The boatman pulls out his rowing boat and heads out of
the narrow canal. 
Fields glimmer as the cold breeze sweeps over the crop. 
Somewhere, mynahs call a conference.
A lazy doggy stands soaking up the rays of the sun. 
A blue train rattles down the track a little far away.
A hen and her little chicks are out for breakfast. 
A bull finishes up his meal before heading out to the vegetable market with his cart and owner.
I race alongside the blue train.  
Four village belles cross the railway track, aluminum pots of water steady on their heads, the sun gleaming behind them.
What a view!
Familiar smells and unfamiliar turns heave at the doors of your senses. 
Sign boards whiz by.
Highway tea stalls get life.
The morning newspapers wrestle with their handlers. 
I get my cuppa of hot steaming tea – double strong. Mmmm.
My day couldn’t open any better. 


Back in the car, back at the wheel, it’s time to look out for a fuel station. And then start all over again; to find something else.

Chasing rain. Welcomed by sun.

Last time when the rain gods went ahead and wetted my neighbouring street ignoring mine, I remember being mad as hell. That rain never visited the lane I live in. It turned the street corner, wetting the road as it passed in one lavish swipe, smattering against David’s sand-laden window panes leaving behind a more photo worthy mess. And off it went to wet the neighbouring lane – unwanted, unappreciated, unsolicited. As I child, me and my cousins playing outside my house would run to the roads where it rained. We could never wait for it to come upon us.

After all these years those nice memories of tiny running feet kicking up dust along with road, chin up in the air, all of us racing to see who among us would get to touch the rain drops first, I was surprised that a glowing summer sun should dust, polish and bring out those very memories of rain-drenched, joyful days.

As I walked home yesterday for lunch (ah, the joys of having an office close to home!), the sun played hide and seek behind the clouds. As I progressed, so did he, coming out of hide mode, slowly lighting up the path, bathing the other end of the street in golden yellow like a lavish flame, proceeding towards me, crossing houses, parked cars, sleeping dogs, lamp posts, a biker, the new foursome litter of playful pups… engulfing me in all his brightness and warmth once again.

The move