Monday, October 11, 2004

On the road at night, it almost doesn't seem to matter which country I am in. The darkness covers, lulls and plays mellifluous ditties and neon signs. The weather was beautiful. The clouds slung low and the sun poised between a claret and a burnt sienna. I could see the long row of cars right upto the horizon and sprawling fields to either side. Sometimes, everything seems like a blessing.

And now I am back home, grading and staring. I need a drink. Kahlua, Merlot or Shiraz? What will your posion be?