Went for a short walk in the garden. The grass is nice - at night, a little moist. I did a few brisk rounds. Feel a bit less guilty that I am doing nothing about my gaining weight...
From where we walkin the garden, our flat is fully in view. Our worn-out curtains, my taped-out window... inside spaces. My mind is like a raw field - cracking up in longing and expectation. Displaced satisfaction, no ammount of blogging is going to make me feel good about the other work piling up. I have to understand that. Maybe. Maybe it is just fine - being ambigious and brutal.
The political scene in India is in another queer phase of confusion. Lal Krishna Advani is in trouble and controversy, because he chose to praise Jinnah, the father of Pakistan, who is a popular villian in India.
How can anyone vouch for anyone in history ? I am quite sure, heroes and villians in history could interchange spaces without much difference.
I am trying to view things without the hysterical mercury rising in my veins - letting drab traffic make rolly-polly pudding out of my mind. With a drab mind, memories seem to be tragic!
Nothing like spending a whole day sitting cross-legged reading a book about what babies aged 1-3 months like to do; to make you feel that nothing much can be said. Because small babies like to play and they like to play and they like to play.