Tystnaden and pools of sunlight

 It's streaming through my windows, and brushing aside the curtain's feeble attempt at keeping the sun out.
 The neighbors are thankfully quiet at this hour of the morning, else the beats of Linkin' Park, the wails of some devotional hymn and the concerted orchestral tutti of cawing (the crows hereabout dive-bomb even the pariah kites) makes quite the symphonic experience for the early riser.
 Faint, ever so faintly one can discern the few true birdcalls to enliven the heart of the city.
 The sky outside is one solid sheet of fire. My rooms face the east and I can still see the green-and-blue afterimages of the sun's gathering strength. Winter is passing.

 The sparrow are chirping! Trucks rumbling up the bridge, engines revving. I want this to last forever: me, the sounds, this room and the pools of winter sun on my bedroom floor. At times solitude is bliss and this is one of those times. Making the ivory tower worth the desolation.

 On an impulse I decided to retain the stubble that's now tending to grizzle.
I'm remembering inane things. A rather diminutive friend once stood stock still at the Ballygunge phari - nearly causing us to be run over by enthusiastic drivers. Turns. "Your eyes will haunt me." I tried to come up with some wacky retort. Unfortunately, evading being run over, all I managed was "You are shorter than a pygmy." Ah, the ignominy of missed opportunities to be scathing . . .
 There, Mr. Arora's Enfield's coughing its guttural 'good morning'. Hey, alliterations too - this morning must be charmed or something!

 I must soon murder the magic with my clawed hands for the rest of the day must be charaded through. Deliver stuff to Salt Lake (now that place haunts me - where every turn bears some memory), smirk and nod dolefully as required and contemplate pizzas on the drive back.
 Forgot to chronicle: the blogmeet with my old enemy went well. Reassuring to find that craziness can always be indulged in.
 A rare conversation yesterday. I'm still under the spell of wistful eyes and carefree laughter that flirts with the wind. 'Typical' as indeed so many say.
 But today I am glad of my worst friends and best enemies, of soup, cheese and pale sunlight. St. Xavier's deserves a visit, then I'll be off to my tryst with DA-block. And the evening chat with my lost Grail.
*Dons the helm.*
:D