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the 'Fist' & the 'Pacifist'
Though my soul may set in darkness, it shall rise in perfect light,
I have loved the stars too fondly, to be fearful of the night.
Friday, June 09, 2006
I met her today.

Glenary is not what it used to be. The mall is crowded and chaotic. But yet in November, Darjeeling is sharp and pleasant.

At midday the muted sun and the wispy white clouds, mists over the cerulean. The world it seems has a renaissance master manning the lights.

The Kanchandzonga makes an appearance at its own whim. The interplay of - light and the passing clouds, on the canvas of pristine snow. At once - a tinted penumbra and then suddenly a mellow incandescence. Gray shadows and off the palette shades.

Almost, natures own son-et-lumiere.

I never thought I would say this - she finally looks her age. The smile though, is still full of zest, and her hair, dark and intriguing. The only thing which has changed - for the first time I think, she needs me. It isn't a happy feeling. It makes me queasy and sad.


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