Livinghigh: Out and About
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Livinghigh was here at 11:51 PM /



Out and About

I've spent a week out of town, touring the hinterlands of Andhra Pradesh. Most of the people I told about my trip couldn't understand why I was so excited about it, since I wouldn't even stay over at Hyderabad. I was excited because I would get out of Bombay. A holiday-not-really-holiday, since it was a working tour, but it would be nice, anyhow. There would be banal clients with me, who I would have to babysit and pander to, but what-the-hell, there would be the ocean at Vizag.

And it was amazing. Not the 5 am wake-up calls, or the three-hour long drives. But the stay. The wide expanse of ocean. The pillows all over my bed. The excitement of being waited on, hand and foot. The pampering. The late night dinners reading a book and munching on Thai starters.

The chocolate ice cream.

***

I was supposed to sit and write a short story tonight. Something not complete in my mind. Just the threads. The meat I would fill in later. Just the feeling of the protagonist in my head. Sitting and waiting. With ice-cold eyes. And a terribly warm, molten heart. Perhaps, it would be terrible to be born like that: pale and unloving to the outside, but if only people knew how fragile you were on the inside, how much you wanted to give and love... Perhaps it would be a curse. I'm not optimistic enough to think that it would be a boon.

Does drifting out of love feel lethargic? Is that what my protagonist should do?

Or should my optimism prevail, and realisation dawn? Effort is what is needed. Does my protagonist with the ice-cold eyes and the molten heart have Effort?


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