Random events which have been cruising through my life, while I was waiting for inspiration to strike and exquisite prose to come gushing out of this keyboard.
The build up to the full moon of Budh Purnima had a grand symphony feel to it. The clear summer sky, with its dazzling stars, faded into the mountains when the moonlight saturated the forests. Jackals, big cats and small dogs prowled and howled the silence away. The coppery moon would rise over the deodar fringe, turn into a silver searchlight and would vanish into thick grey rain clouds…a definite UP.
Rain clouds, hail storms, thunder and lightning shows have been my evening entertainment. I have spent a memorable 3 hours on my balcony, lying on my back on the cool tiled floor with Pepper curled up beside me, watching the drama of an approaching storm…. Lightning streaks would tear up the black sky in the distance, thunder would shake my bones, whistling winds bearing pine needles and rain drops would tear through the forest trees and then, a hailstorm of cold, hard cricket balls hit the railings and roofs and forced me to run indoors. The aftermath of cool winds, shiny lights of distant villages, and the warmth of my knitted blanket….another definite UP.
I have started a new project with yarn which will make spiders go green with envy. Thin, thin purple yarn. Swatching and sampling with 2 threads held together, has saved my sanity. This project, with some interesting lace work, has given me a squint, a tender thumb, some ripping episodes and this peculiar lump of unravelled stitches.
I will do some repair work after I complete the cardigan. Right now, I am torn between the desire to dump this complex crazy project and the yearning to see the completed cardigan….more DOWN than UP, at the present moment.
The bed has never looked more inviting than this month. I have been flopping into its soft folds, covering myself with my beloved blanket of mosaic and garter stitch, and reading myself to sleep. Maeve Binchy, an Irish author who proves that there is indeed some story telling magic in that country, has entered my reading arena. Have completed “Lilac Bus” and “Evening Class”, and am scouting around for some more books. It took a concerned friend and some pulse readings to realize that I was down with a viral flu. Am still aching and sleeping my days , but I am on the mend now…that’s DOWN going UP!
And then, there are days when I miss Biscuit at the cellular level. I can feel her nuzzling me when I am doing Surya Namaskar, I can almost hear her frenzied barking when the monkeys come visiting and then, I would do anything to have her in my arms again. I pick up her picture, nuzzle that little black nose in the cold glass frame, and get back to reality….DOWN…all the way!
Reality is a black baby guarding her green balloon, chasing her squeaky rock star rooster toy all over the house, stubbornly refusing to come for a morning walk, galloping to the burst pipe in the forest and soaking herself with water from buckets and pipes.
Reality is the blessing of having one adoring, ageing angel snoring at my feet while I write and wait for inspiration to strike, and exquisite prose to come gushing out of the keyboard!