Water races down | Laxmi Hariharan
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Water races down

It’s been 40 days, 10 hours … uh 13 seconds since my last post. I haven’t blogged because I was trying to get stuff right in my head, and because when the sun shines outside in London, I feel duty bound to be out and about soaking it up. Also because this year I am not heading to India on my end-of-year meet the parents trip, heading to the States instead. So it’s going to be a while before I am dropped head first into a vat of burning sunshine, and so had to store up as much heat as possible in my cells to tide over the next few months. No, it’s not as bad as that, but I have to say it.

Truth is I actually prefer autumn and winter. I like the low hanging clouds in the grey london sky, I like shivering a little, so I can walk everywhere and not get hot and tired. I like the nights drawing in early, because the discontent of a half finished day strikes a chord with my gut and helps me tap hidden emotions inside; the stuff I can never admit to myself, which is why I write. It’s easier to be true to the computer screen than to myself.

The last few weeks have also been different, because of a close encounter of a different kind. One where I touched a forgotten hunger. A reminder of what it means to feel extreme emotions, the tightly leashed kind, the secret ones which you’ll never tell anyone about. Of what it feels to be hungry … yes that’s it. Hungry enough to throw caution to the winds, to chase after a feeling which you know will be there only in the moment and gone if you closed your eyes.
Like being in the middle of one of my action scenes, poised on the edge of this long, long slide down, just waiting, not breathing, on tip-toes, and then bending down, you’re about to throw yourself headlong down this slide.  Or do you? Yah, that kinda feeling.
And the inevitable low that follows. You know, just as you are soaring up, really in the moment, adrenaline pumping and you know, you just know that when you reach high enough, close enough to the sun, the heat is going to melt the wax holding your feathers together and then you are going to plunge straight down never to recover … not for a while atleast. But hey the flight was exhilarating enough to last you a while. You think. You try to convince yourself. But the doubts still crowd in. And it’s too late, because you’ve already taken off.
Kind of like this video — not exactly like this, not quite, but almost. For when I get that high and then crash this is the song I listen to, and somehow it’s poignant on many levels. Mainly because it feels like he is tearing his heart out. And I often wonder how far do I have to dig  to get to the kernel hidden inside.

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