Thoughts are fleeting. And rare thoughts are even more so. That is why it requires immense discipline and diligence to be able to write consistently with quality for a long time.
I have failed to observe my own rules and have not posted any blog for over last 41 days or so. Today is a lazy and hot Sunday, waiting for the rains to come. I stole just few moments to myself and was standing at the French window of my sitting room with an evocative song, one of my most favorites, playing on my iPod. The view from my window is as breathtaking as it can get in a mundane city like Mumbai; although with daily viewing, the wonder wears out a little bit. So here I was, with a beautiful song playing in my ears and the sun and the clouds playing out their game of catch-me-if-you-can on the hills afar, on the deep greenish blue creek running from left to right and whatever is left of the mangrove and the greenery between the creeks and concrete jungle. I was thinking about the friend of mine, who had two cardiac arrests within a week and a triple bypass surgery just the day before. I was thinking about his wife, about what she is going through now, all the anxieties about his survival, her worries about the mounting medical expenses, future of two children and a difficult mother in law. Although there was no apparent connection between what I was seeing in front of me and what my thoughts about my friend and his wife, a thought came to me which linked the two. And..
And I have lost the thought, as I did not capture it as soon as it came to me. The more I struggle to bring it back to this white page, the more precious it feels. The more I think of it, more I feel very distressed to have lost something so precious. But it is gone – like whiff of perfume in the corridor.
