“The living don’t wait to die alphabetically, nor do the dead want to be arranged in an order”, I penned down, half amused by this discovery of mine. I sat beside a small obscure grave marker , hidden behind the grand gravestone of another famous person. My headache didn’t show any signs of leaving me , nor did the weather look like it was going to let the bright sunshine seep into the grey Parisian sky.

“What are you searching for? ” He asked while finding himself a place beside me. Wearing a brown bowler hat and carrying a cane , he looked like he had walked out of  a  Rene Magritte painting albeit with a face and not an apple.

” I don’t know” I replied to the vague question with the most evasive phrase coined in English language.

” Nonsense! you obviously know what you are looking for, else your eyes wouldn’t be darting around like that of a madman seeking his sanity” he declared.

I laughed, a nervous laugh afraid as ever to say things out loud lest they become real and heavy with words that I possibly cannot take back. ” I guess I was looking for some alternative life altering mechanism over here” I said. “I guess I was searching for a person who died the same day as I was born” I continued. “I guess I was searching for an everlasting connection with the obscure in a way that I can never find otherwise”

“Hmmm” he grunted. “A bit lonely aren’t you?” he asked a few minutes later. ” No, not really, but sometimes I wish I had a legacy to carry or perhaps a cross to bear, so to speak. There is an innate satisfaction in knowing a piece about a stranger that could be polar opposite to who you are , but it also sets the roots for an identity that you have been running away from” I said.

“And what maybe that you are running away from?” he asked “These findings about myself.These words to be precise” I said without thinking.

“Clever one , you are, aren’t you” he patted my head in a avuncular manner and walked away into the labyrinth of gravestones, cane not making a sound, bowler hat not blowing away despite the storm brewing and wind hissing a warning.

“Insane might be a better word” I mumbled  to myself and went back to searching and not finding anything significant or at-least deluding myself about it.



Paris in Patterns


When people ask me about Paris, I can’t help but smile. Paris to me is not special because of all the museums I did not visit or all the cafes I did not dine in. Its special because I saw the city, albeit with a grim cloudy murky lenses after my tryst with the sunny Greece. Either way, Paris now is officially my third favorite city, the true love being ROME.

Timeless way



Somewhere not long ago there existed a place Mind of No Mind ,in which on a cold winter day ,a Timeless Way was born. This timeless way had a way too ordinary. She would weep too often and would wander around the claustrophobic streets mocking the other little girls just as ordinary as her.  Timeless way was extremely curious, so she would push and prod the other children until they would scream “GO AWAY!”

One such angry girl who screamed nothing at Timeless Way was unimportant. The girls’ mother had never given her a shower and also named her Lulu. Lulu had no peculiar tastes or no selective thoughts (but that was understood since she was still a young girl of eighteen.) Lulu also wore her clothes inside out because her father had told her to do so.

Her father ,who was also always known as “the father” not just to her but the entire village and never had anybody questioned it. The father also wore his clothes inside out because he owned and always swore to own only two pairs of clothes, one of which was his Sunday best. He refused to wear his black suit that was considered his Sunday best even at the funeral of his own mother. He complained that it wasn’t a Sunday  or even at the remotest a rainy day ,his only two excuses to wear the Sunday suit .

Lulu on the other-hand now always carried a miniature harp after her grandmothers death but did not know how to play a single note. When the Great Flood washed over the Mind of No Mind to cleanse the souls of its people , the harp without the musical note kept everybody afloat but this was not known to Timeless Way. She stole the harp from Lulu and broke the harp. When the strings of the harp became unstrung and the frame of it unbound, Mind of No Mind never again had a mind of its own, When the great flood washed over No Mind again twenty years later ,Timeless way by then had already lost her ordinary way .