Saturday, September 14, 2002

This one is long due. Just been too busy, tired, crazed, puzzled and worried.
And just so alive.

Thinking is an activity that is beginning to happen in situations more frequent and meaningful than the usual happenstance.
Looking for belief and trying to manufacture some of my own. God, Destiny, Fate, Control....what's thy poison?

I landed up at a temple last week. After ages. With this image in my head. Of hearing voices in suspended time. Of hallowed stone and and wisdom sitting tight. Of age and eminence and brilliance. The usual suspects.
Nothing happened. The priests had paunches and the murals were tawdry. The idol had laughing eyes.

We set our anchors, our points of reference at long-forgotten points if trivial time. And never veer too far.
His stories were my anchors, gods and Goddesses and Yaskhas and Ganas. Never the idols.
His feet moving in an even tempo on the cold night of a ritual. Never the temple.

I went alone to the temple and he wasn't with me.
So I walked away.