That thing called love

Each year, several tourists are disappointed upon their arrival in Paris. Apparently, it doesn’t look like the city they had dreamt of; in fact, the reality seems diametrically opposite to the picture in their imagination.

Have you ever tasted a cuisine you always wanted to try at a restaurant only to realise that it tasted almost like mud, literally? Unless your favourite food is mud (well, at the age of six, my friend Dolly’s was), what you taste is called disappointment. Not only mud, disappointment comes in many other flavours and probably the most popular one is the one tasted in love. At times, disappointment is the inability to find the exact way to express a flash of thought that just passed you by; the one I am having right now while writing this.

Anyways, did I tell you, disappointment comes with a personal credit account. In fact, it operates exactly in the same way too! You have a credit of disappointment allotted to you every month and you can choose to lavish your disappointment on bargains of your choice or spend all of your disappointment in one go on that one exquisite piece of purse…err sorry..piece of pursuit I mean!!

And there’s smart metrics on your spending pattern too, that constantly keeps reminding you throughout the day. And even if you are a completely unconscious fellow not caring a freckle in the world, there will be one caring soul, who tracks your Account of Disappointment Credit; who, with the precision of a yoga practitioner counting her breath would delightfully inform you of your lag.

Life is strange; strangely weird, rather weirdly strange enough already to be dealing with one’s daily disappointment check. But what if you could become free from credit? What if you were just unable to get disappointed at all? You’d say, well, that happens only to those who are marvellously close to the truth or marvellously away from reality. And I say, you are absolutely right. All this smoke talk isn’t practical and even so is love. Not practical. Exactly which is why it filters your vision every time you look at a disappointment and inspires you to go on.

The lines after this portion of the post were scribbled shabbily on a notepad almost a decade ago, in the back seat of an office shuttle in a country far away from the nook I am writing this post from. 

The day was tiring and trying, and I have a faint memory of writing the lines accounting to some looming big disappointment. And thankfully, that’s all I remember!

A beam of light searching

drops of water fade away

on the smiling tips of grass,

as green they are

betwixt the lines of thoughts trailing.

Trailing as the sun goes down

by the clouds playing hide and seek

just beneath the magenta sky are lines

lines of distant dreaming.

Voices loud, voices squeaky

voices over the soothing wind

One more day just thoughtful enough

one more dream in making.