Some pictures of old friends, of the still single and fancy free variety. A simple, kind of the 70s song, of the delightful jingles over the radio sold soap and detergent kind. I imagine friends picking up their crumpled dupattas, cups of chai, special glances exchanged, a dusty guitar brought to life.
I just saw some pictures of an old college mate, still very obviously single and travelling around, still a kind of energy seen in her pictures that I fear I might have lost, hopefully temporarily. A very different vibe around me now. Of family, extended family, kids splashing in the pool, talks of houses being remodelled. Of my own self being completely enveloped by blood tests, the criminal carbohydrates and the powerful proteins, the baby's movements, everything watchful and the lack of complete abandon.
I miss my faraway old self when with my kohled eyes, piping waale kalidar kurtas, a million confused thoughts criss crossing like the gurjari prints I wore, thinking myself fat and so unattractive, I trotted across mountains and cities like a free bird. I promised myself I would sit by the bend in the river at Har- ki- doon soon and its been over a decade and another few years that I am too afraid to count and I am still dreaming away.
How do I fulfil my dreams in just one night?
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