The first and only house on Tagore Avenue.

Durgapur.

A compound with a small patch of grass, two small square ponds filled with muck and snails and [hopefully, I say] hydras. Most of the time, the lone Koel gets very bored and starts cooing in an energetic tone. And thus those treepies join in and the parakeets get agitated. A few minutes later it's all over.
And then, silence.

The home-theatre inside is booming with Lacuna Coil's soothing strain. The lone occupant of the echoing house starts faintly nodding his head to said music. He then gets distracted and turns off the music and goes out. His head is spinning with too much of input.
He takes out a wide-screen laptop, muttering how he hates the brand, and he starts randomly browsing the net, sitting under a large tree, which proves to be equally friendly to humans, ants, worms and large flies.

The Prince slowly escapes into the large, now-barren garden. In a few months' time, all this would be a lush lawn, as it used to be. Just a little water. Just a little gardening, and everything would be beautiful again.

He studies a little, but he studies the life in his new surrounding. Everything moves if you keep your eyes still.

He watches movies and the stars when he gets the time, and when he doesn't feel sleepy. Finally.

Oh lovely new Home.

Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--

Enigmatic, and wonderfully colourful. That's how I would describe the lake at night.
It's big. And yet it is so darn small sometimes.


I went to meet up with a friend near a book shop. We though it was a fine idea to go to a coffee shop.
And then, we talked.

Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings.

And that's after a full girl-gang comes in, pushes us from our table. We drink. We finish. And we go out, asking a florist if they had black roses {"No"}, and if not, do they exist? {"Very rare. They're found in some parts of the world"}
It was quite funny {"Blah... it would have been more fun if it was a woman..."} , and we ended up deciding to go walk the lake.

At night. It's beautiful. And that's all I can ever say. Pictures don't do justice to it [they never do, anyway], and we started walking.

And again, we started talking, {"More serious things now... tell me."} about some things. The future looked too close now, breathing down our necks. And yet here we were, in one small, perfectly nice spot in the world. Just a close buddy and no one else.
And we talked. Profoundly. He talked more, I listened. I talked, he listened. Then well.. he told me he would like to adopt a daughter. After his marriage.
That, well stunned me. It was out of the blue for me. This person: how well have I known him! And yet... how little?

And he says, that he will refuse to add more friends. He says he wants to only have his current list. The idiot. :)

So stemming from the absolute desire to sit at one place and organise my thoughts, I started writing.
How long has it been? I don't know. I've been reading through most blogs at those peaceful times of saturation that you encounter. Reading through updates whose individual meaning passed through my processing centre, but the full-meaning floating just high enough to scrape above my head.


Of stuff:

And this, after a lot of stuff that has been happening at home. My grandfather passed away. And to take a small quote from Aasra's blog, I have just one grandparent left for me in the whole wide world. I could not go all the way to Chennai to see him. I was numb, mom was supporting herself with the feeling that his suffering had finally ended, sis was crying, dad was busying himself with the necessary work and grandma was crying as well.
It dulled down over a few days, and it was something of a shocker to me that I was feeling a lot of things, and yet, practically nothing. Still, it was functional enough.

**

Of exams:

But all of this, makes pretty much no sense to me. For example, I suddenly realised after yesterday's chemistry exam {while walking back from school}, that I had spelt "height" wrong. I don't know where I used that word, anyway. Still, the deriding fact that I had spelt one little word which has nothing at all to do with pure and applied chemistry kept harping its sorry state of affairs to me.

This was still not a very good reason to stop me from singing U2 at the top of my voice along Wood street. Facebook status message notwithstanding ("Kaushik is at a place called vertigo!"), my tweet was decidedly understating some valuable points. I believe, in another attempt to refer to U2, I am one step closer to nowhere, with two exams to go!

**

Of blogging and writing:

My blog has started to disappear from my day-to-day life. Mostly because of what Twitter has done. And what Radar has done. I'd still like all my blogging buddies to come over to Twitter. :)

**

Of random splutters:

I really can stay up at night. Although I had promised one of my favourite friends that I would not stay up and watch Red Sonja, desperate hunger made me stay up and have chocolate corn-flakes with some cold wind thrown in.

****

And that's basically that. If anyone wants a twitter invite, do drop me an email. And do remember that photomicroblogging about food is amazingly satisfying.