Seoul searching......

awake on my airplane
awake on my airplane
my skin is bare
my skin is theirs
I feel like a newborn
I feel so real

A great song called filter - every line of it was on my lips as I took the plane Sat evening from Seoul. The cold air teasing my skin,asking my whereabouts all these years. I walked the streets of Seoul with a handful layers of clothing unkowing that unknowingly my skin was being awakened, my skin was getting new. Thats when I realized what I have missed all these years. I am a boy of seasons, much like every season I want to change, my heart wants to blossom, my desires want to burn, tears want to be shed and my cold mind wants to numb. I do not know what it was - my brown shades, my brown hair, my brown skin or my brown leather jacket. I just felt complete.Maybe its just in fatuation, maybe I am just reading too much into this feeling. But those seven days felt different. And I realized that the barriers were not that of language or culture but the barriers within me.As its said - it is not enough to conquer, one must learn to seduce. And I was seduced for seven days and nights.Much like in the movie 'Lost in translation' I was in a new world. The only difference being I wasn't lost,

I was found.


Lolly

With eyes wide open...

Dreams...... I always remember my dreams... I spend a good half of a Sunday remembering my dreams... dreams I had over the week, dreams I had on my way to a hangover.

To me dreams, are ways of releasing your energy while your body is resting.. In the state of wake, we tend to confuse the needs of our body to that of the mind... The body asks for a nice workout, the mind asks for a random spark... the result - you end up in a not-so-random club with some not-so-random people dancing to not-so-random music drinking away to not-so-random glory.

I will never forget my childhood dreams... I dreamed of a girl ( I know I sound cinematic as ever- Bollywoodish to be precise).. but yes I did... and I have dreamed of her just twice...
and the dream was so crisp, was so fresh... I spent the whole first dream with her, riding on her bike, to a nearby park, to a nearby icecream parlor... Coincidentally I lived some of these moments in my life when I was in love for the first time... but something tells me she wasn't the girl of my dreams... not because things didn't work out b/w us... but because I dreamed of her again after our break-up... this time it was different... the lakeside... the autumn leaves changing their colors... the sunset...the cool breeze... the white wine crystallizing her giggling , and her smile...
and I woke up not knowing which day it was, and for a moment where I was... just that I was stiff from previous evening's game of tennis.

I have this strange feeling in me.... I might forget how to woo a girl I love; I might forget how to Love;I might forget how to weep like a boy heart-broken;I might forget how to sleep to forget it all;But I might never forget to dream; just to get one more glimpse of her;
one more dream of her.
And it wouldn't matter if I remembered the dream.