The last of the October lot. An ode to what the challenge meant for me.
Blogging in the middle of an awesome football match.
You know how all those photos you have taken about your travels and adventures sometimes call back to you to go through them once more. Its a trap. Beware! I have warned you now.
Continuing with yesterdays post,I decided to write how i feel today, having taken the day off and having taken some much needed rest. And recollect some old memories in the process.
At the age of seven, or you could say for any age, water falling from the heaven above and into the jagged rocks below brings in immense joy and excitement. Joseph showed it too when we passed through a signboard exclaiming the arrival of one Valanjankanam waterfalls on the way to Kottayam from Thekkady. “Ammachi, …
The mango is small but extremely juicy and tasty and has the right balance of sweetness and tanginess. This one blooms once in two years and when it does, its a feast for us.
I start with the desk and there are quite a lot of things lying here and there. There is this bottle of ink from Chelpark that hasn’t been used for ages, accompanied by a few Hero fountain pens competing alongside the only Parker I have. There was a Waterman somewhere there but I cannot find it now. I pull up my drawer and stash them back in it when my gaze fell upon that diary. I paused for a moment and pulled it out form the drawer. It was a year old and was filled with all the scribbles and notes I had taken while experiment with my madness.
Ten minutes in, I am at my desk clutching the candle in its holder and making way to the window that was flung open by the wind. I managed to close it but lost the light of the candle in the process. I set it down on the table and fumble for the matchbox I have in my drawer. I strike the match and light it.