Back to traveling and in Portland

Finally back on the plane and hit Portland a few days ago. A 34 hour flight, 5 movies and a book! Was quite a flight.

Portalnd is a nice quaint city and it rains like its the only way one expresses feelings. I am off to meet up N my best pal from college and I am "quite the" excited as she would have put it.

Up in the air, Paranormal activity, Shakti, Le Herisson are few of the movies I watched. I am trying hard to get to sleep but luck does not shine.

Waiting to hit the road and watch some more crazy movies maybe. Until then take care.

Stillness and change

White like a drop of dew on grass, seeming like a satin cloth.
That just let itself drift away in the wind
You might lie there for sand to blanket you
Or just drift again into newer shores
Whichever ways something will change..
Could be the whiteness, or the shape.
The fragrance or the feel
Or if nothing really, the stillness in changing times

Of Bars and Himalayas

They say that bang at the stroke of midnight come either devious thoughts or obvious thoughts. I wonder why my mind wandered about a dream I recently had. A bar - everyone happy, dancing, merry, stoned, unstrung almost like everyone belonged there and didnt belong anywhere at the same time. The music played a mix of retro, rock, jazz and African classical beats. There was a character to this bar, almost like every corner was a different person, a different place. It was a place however intending to liberate and free most of us to no where.

The host, seemed to know exactly what a seeking me would seek on a Saturday night just as well as she knew what the painter would want to drink after working on a landscape he was struggling to create for a while now. All came together urging me to lose myself in the joy and illusions only to head back to the Himalayas for an ablution from a sinful evening. (Was it?) or to understand why rivers actually did flow downwards (gravity cannot be the answer to the world, its a stale theory). As the clock struck 1, thoughts just resigned and went back to sleep, leaving me wide awake.

I remember waking up feeling cold like on the Himalayas and high like after a hangover and mostly wanting to say good morning to the lovely host.

Imagination

I hit on search with an empty string
wishing fate just throws something at me
anything, a line a whine or a song

I land an interesting picture
that of a placid lake, a snow clad mountain
a complacent face, a cup with brewing tea

I figured its not a picture
but my imagination afterall