Monday, July 13, 2009

the purge.

we have this quadrangle in the hostel. the place we dry our clothes. if seen from the sky, the quadrangle would seem like the rectangular figures in the math textbooks of class ten where we had to find the perimeter and area of the given figure. add x metres to the length, subtract y metres to the breadth - add, subtract, multiply, divide! calculate and purge the mind.

somehow, the quadrangle too seems to be something that helps in calculations. emotional calculations. we go round and round to add, subtract, multiply and divide emotions. alone, in dyads, in groups - it doesn't matter who goes, or what she thinks about, the person always ends up calculating. emotional calculations. talk-think, talk-think. walk-talk-think...

i have walked around the quadrangle many-a-times. sometimes alone. and often with people i only claim to know. and we purge our minds.

today i walked again. with someone else this time. love. friendship. self-pity. battles with the self. organ transplants. death. rain. the city. people. love.

the best thing about the quadrangle is that it is not judgmental. we talk to forget. we listen only to purge. it is a cycle. talk-think, talk-think, walk-talk-think-listen-purge. purge-listen-think-talk-walk.

today we walked and breathed in something more than just moonsmoke as the desire to play with the raindrops washed our faces. later i sat up in bed with a bowl of soupy noodles, millions of thoughtpuddles and an unfinished book.

there shall be no sleep tonight. only just rain.

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