The blog dashboard keeps prompting me to blog; blog about my life right now, blog about the events, blog about the heart breaks and blog about shit. NEW POST. Whatever can be new about an old soul that has lived in this world a thousand and more years in solitude, in search, in salvation. My body  feels tattered, my mum keeps tellnig me that one should not love one's body so much (reference to the cold winter mornings and nights) and I nod. I thought that was one of those wise things mum would utter every now, once and then, without giving it much of a thought but I believe she thinks a lot too.

I almost broke my 'resolution' because my aunt really wanted to buy me this blue, woolen sweater. I wanted to give in. Just one more; the last one I thought. I almost said yes and then somehow, I do not know why I just could not pick up that sweater and buy it; own it. I am not trying to give up the worldly pleasures, do not mistake this for that; if anything, I am drowned in worldly pleasures. Got myself a warm family, close friends, crazy nights with Gurkha beer, Cheese Pasta and Chips Chilli; got internet access, got a laptop, wearing warm clothes and drinking hot lemon water (yes I know what you are thinking A); so I think I am knee-head-whatever deep into the pleasures of the world. Tell me to give THAT up, and I will scream like  anything.

Life is barely moving right now; barely. I can actually feel the earth move! That barely. Sani and I wondered about the moon after such a long time. There used to be nights when all I did was go out in the chhat, and stare at the moon and trace its movements; count stars and make cloud figures. A romantic eh? Truly. There was something about those nights that I felt like I owned it; no one else in the neighborhood would be outside; and I could let myself roam around with the moon. I think I have some kind of a cosmic connection with the moon; and its sliver and its silver. We had to read one poem about the moon during our intermediate; something about how it was a lonely traveler and envied stars for every lover wanted to pick it up for their lover; well, I wish someone could pick the moon for me. (No pressure though.)