Rainy days...And Saturday?

I woke up to the roll of thunder. It was around midday (now there, don’t judge me. I’m cool!) A wind swept across my room. Now, that is something truly rare. It is my belief, that a storm could rage on outside with houses, trees and choo-choo trains flying around in it, but not a speck of wind will cross the threshold of my room. It is THAT depressing. I sleep with the balcony door leading roadwards, open, something that drives my father mad for fear of robbery but then, unless I do that, my room tends to become a furnace. Eggs boil themselves over when brought into my room. With the recent curbs on cooking gas imposed by the government, it may not be such a bad thing after all, but more on that later.

So I wake up with storm clouds brewing outside. It is truly a heavenly sight. Summers are too hot, winters are cold(not too much, but I’m sensitive) but it is the monsoons that I think holds the calendar together. What better feeling than the gentle pitter-patter of raindrops falling on your face. The winds sweeping across, blowing through your hair(my sympathies for the bald folks). What better thrill than the sudden burst of lightning, flashing open the heavens, and the ear splitting clap of thunder that follows.  School days, were spent splashing around in the ditches, rolling in the mud (ofcourse, I still do that, sparsely though, and mostly when no one’s looking.) So today, as my eyes greeted the familiar sight, I jumped out of bed and headed to the roof, earphones tagging along. I mean, what compliments rain better than music and a steaming hot cup of coffee? Maybe football, but then, that is on tomorrow’s itinerary.

I perched myself atop the tank, legs hanging precariously over the ledge. My grandfather would have had a thing or two to say had he seen me, but there was no one. The winds were to die for. The trees swaying to and fro in perfect harmony, the dark clouds swirling up to unleash its burdens. It was perfect. Bob Dylan was on the playlist, food for thought (as in, that the conditions were a perfect stimulant for thought. I don’t think Dylan has a song called ‘Food for thought’)

"There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief,
"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.

Now, the last few days haven’t been easy to be honest. Not that it’s been particularly difficult either, but still, the fact that some issues and conflicts exist, is cause enough for some worry. I don’t react well to confusion and indecision. I’ve been tagging along with the flow of the tide, unsure of where it was headed. Again, there were a lot of conflicting signs along the way that I can’t make head or tail of. A fine pickle I’ve landed up into.

Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth."

I don’t think I’m getting through either. Communication hasn’t always been my forte. I mean, for some reason, no one ever takes me seriously. I wonder why? Sucks, huh? Again, this is not to be confused with depression. I’m hardly ever depressed. Melancholy would be a more round-about way of putting it. Add confusion to that, and you have a potent combo to unsettle even the Laughing Buddha. But, still that message I got from some weird number about seeking help with suicidal tendencies made me laugh! Also, it was creepy.

"No reason to get excited," the thief, he kindly spoke,
"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke.
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate,
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late."

Pooja was no help at all. Though, to be fair, I didn’t give her the big picture. Nor did I ask for her help, so, I don’t know why I expected some in the first place. And my drunkard school pals of yore, were well, drunk as always. Man, I need some new friends. But then, I don’t need help with the whole thing. One side of the problem I have worked out, or so I think, it’s the other end that is problematic. I don’t know what to do with it. Curses! And then came the rain (incase you forgot, I was dangling by the tank on the roof.) Maybe I should just give the whole thing time. Forget all about it (yeah right! This is why my own advice sucks) and you know, dig away, in hope of some light. Patience, might end up being a virtue after all.

All along the watchtower, princes kept the view
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too.
Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl,
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl.