A blank page. A white Christmas. A new year of unseen possibility, of unknown schemes. An open canvas of a future where nothing and everything is written. I fold my arms behind my head and lie down in the grass.
I've been overcome by a delicious blankness over the past ten days or so. Perhaps it's the on and off cold that's stalking me (and half of Chennai's population) Perhaps it's the chilly breeze that's so unfamiliar and helplessly addictive to this tropical place. The floor's too cold for bare feet and the limbs automatically reach for cover. Snuggle up, sleep, dream, sleep.
It's a pleasant blankness. It's a blankness that welcomes good old friends entering the inviolate channel flipping/Hindi movie dissing/celebrity gossiping/dreamy philosophy talking zone. It's a blankness that's ever ready for a movie. It's a blankness that includes time for the gym, college, but devotes a lot of time to lack of thought. Isn't that the aim of meditation? And here it is: free. I'm quiet, but I'm okay. I've never been this okay in such a long time- a neutral state is much preferred actually instead of the super "I got the power" high. Friends question my lack of (usual) existentialism, why am I not "what-am-I-gonna-do". I should be. Friends berate my lack of go, my wastefulness. Is it that bad to let go and just be content for a change? I'm not saying I'm ecstatic at my level of accomplishment but is it okay if I don't feel too bad that I'm not the Secretary-General of the United Nations?
Maybe it's the cough syrup talking.
But seriously, I think it's more to do with the weather. When it gets this way in Madras, 90's A. R. Rahman Tamil songs begin playing in the background (and some new ones, maybe 'Marudaani' and 'Hosanna'). The tamed sun sprinkles its light through swaying leaves. My collection of big baggy plaid shirts come out to perform their role as 'home jackets'. The window suddenly begins to receive a lot of my undivided attention. Time pauses, looks at its shoulder back at me, as if to wonder why the humans aren't catching up in their usual frenzied stress mode. I wave lazily back. You go on ahead. I'll stop, take stock. Not because I want to make a New Year's resolution. But because I don't.
