Jun 29, 2012

“I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?"

I couldn't have found a better headline than this. Completely agree with Mr Ernest Hemingway.

Actually, this is not even a headline. This is the gist of what you are about to read.

We all love to sleep. At least most people I know. Most people consider sleeping as a part of their symmetrical routinely lives.

For me, sleep is one of the most important things I live for.

Recently, I have taken a conscious decision to do some things that I have never done before (Yes, my quarter life crisis has lasted for much longer than I would have imagined). So one of those things was to get up in the morning and go to the sea face for a "morning walk". Man, people talk about it with so much gusto, so much passion, so much normalcy that I thought I really must be missing out on some sort of experience since I have never ever gotten up early in the morning to walk/jog or do any form of exercise. The only reason I would ever get up between 5 to 8 am in the morning is when I have a god-forsaken flight to catch or other such extreme form of torture.

Anyhow, getting back on the walking track. Yesterday, I went for the first ever "morning walk" of my life at 7.02 am at the beautiful, picturesque and rainy Carter Road. Geared up in my shorts, shoes, music and a red umbrella, it definitely was a unique experience. And now I at least I can talk to my grandchildren with some sort of authority when I tell them that getting up so early in the morning for a walk/jog/exercise is so Highly Overrated. Clearly, I can have that experience any fucking time of the day, and it would thankfully be devoid of the misery, torture, nausea and dizziness of early mornings.  

Early mornings are meant for sweet sleep. They are meant to make you believe that everything is fabulous. You are fabulous. Early mornings are meant for amazing dreams, dreams of wilderness, zany dreams, incomprehensible dreams and forgettable dreams. The best sleep of the whole night is often lovingly gifted to you by glorious early mornings. The early morning sleep (actually sleep in general) comforts me the way nothing and no-one can. I love sleep from the bottom of my bottomless heart.

Here is to sleep. Here is to early morning sleep. Here is to never ever getting up early in the morning for "morning-walks/jogs/exercise".

Post 8.30-9 a.m, I am up for anything. Now let us talk about breakkie, wine, work, coffee, eggs, sugar, love and other such things.

Jun 4, 2012

The Missing People

This poem has been completely inspired by these images of "missing people" by Graham McIndoe 
via www.flavorwire.com

They are holed up in life,
Or freed in death?
Nobody knows.
They are the missing people.

The shadow of their identity,
Translated into paper,
With a pleading hope,
With a hopeful plead.
They are the missing people.

They are crushed, they are wrinkled,
They are creased,
They are in throes of winter,
They are the missing people.
Years go by, their skin doesn't age
Centuries multiply, they lie wide awake,
The posters wither, the skin dries up.
They are the missing people. 

They are the answers,
They are the rhetorical questions.
They rise like a duststorm,
And settle down into a pile of nothing.
They are the missing people.