there is only one of each one of us
in this whole wide universe
and yet everyone is in a race
to be special.
What an irony that we don't see that each one, already, is special!
The Partly Coherent Leaks from the Unconscious (from odd mornings and middle of the nights and dissociated moments)
A different kind of a holiday,
where you find out new places around the place you just shifted,
The Mother Dairy at the corner,
and oh the joy that your courier gets picked up from home!
Setting up a new home... Living in it...
slowly...
like a person you have learnt to meander through
but are not yet quite sure. Well it's been only a few weeks, you'd think.
Many people breathing life around you afresh, and many things;
The difficult nooks in the grills that you managed to reach,
Someone new at the door! Oh the person who irons clothes, or the trash person and oh the sound of piano from the house across.
And the leaking tap that you have learnt to press just right
And the key hole, jamming your key, a bit tight
The different paths that come back to the same place.
And the freshly wiped mosaic floor, where you could just lie all day.
A different kind of a holiday- just so much to travel into.