life is better today

I met the other day four of my bachelor college mates. After roughly 10 years...we were all bench mates. Another one was missing from the first bench.  Most of them were married. They were happy seeing each other. I suddenly caught their expressions while talking through something. ..like "is this bindu...is this siri..the same one from college". We sat in the first bench, for three continous years and heard, read and wrote hundreds of exams. They still see as the first ranker. When they realised I m just as normal as anyone, they had a bit of surprise on their nostalgic faces, they laughed at all the jokes I made, just like the old days. I remembered how dominating I was, and tried to understand why such feeling left a bit of guilt in me at that minute, seeing them un changed. I always feel I should have been better with people. I consoled myself that it is rather than guilt, I changed as a better person now and am able to reconsider those days when I was tough.  I remember exchanging my notebooks with them so often and the girl who's marriage I attended always shouted at me for tearing the pages in the books. I always smiled but never said why I tear the pages.  Back then my life was different. I suddenly think if all those things happened in a different life. I recalled the lines of Rusking bond. ..I might have stopped loving you, but I will never stop loving the days of loving you. I know how much these lines are meant for each and every soul. Ruskin bond again is someone like Rabindranath Tagore for me. Someone so close to nature and villages and little creatures.  I feel they have thoughts similar to me, and always felt if I could express so easily like them. They have never failed to inspire me at any point. I do not want to forget the author of Green well years. Books ought to be like that. All these people will not let me read a page in a stretch.  I always keep the open book on my chest and go into thoughts after each paragraph. I come back only to go back again. Sugar street book though is a sad one, the lines are power. Literature is a beautiful thing. The more I appreciate it, the more fearful it makes me, for that I know less of it to use while writing. I fear to remain with thoughts while my feelings doesnt know to hide in those complex words. One or two words reside in themselves more than a long page.

I see my sister running into sleep, to start her day early tomorrow. Relations are tender and always needed to be taken care of in a gentler way. That is one lesson I learnt after parents. In a week I would be in a different country and miss seeing her beside me.

Today while I was coming back from a friends place I stopped at mangoes shop and actively asked for all variety of mangoes. I sounded so funny and was laughing inside thinking of my new born or long back dead interests on seeing varieties of fruits. I took fruits for the whole week and was happy thinking of eating those mangoes everyday. I also thought how nice it would be if I gift a basket of these on my sister's friend wedding.  He seemed to be important somehow, he drove for us immediately after we heard about mother's death. But then the idea of sending mangoes did sounded funny, however I meant to say I found that minute what could be better than mangoes in this world.

I seem to be writing more today, in this midnight, I feel like writing about the village and my small brothers slowly growing older and going to college soon. One of them is in town now and I planned to show him the city tomorrow. I had to chose something inspiring for him. His name is vamsi and he still looks like the small boy whom I carried in my arms all his childhood.

While I miss my home and husband back in malaysia, I am trying to enjoy last few days of stay in hyderabad. When I think of next Monday I am totally looking forward to meet the person whom I can just have stable life with. Life has been better for me.