The brief raindrop on my brow

Lost itself on my touch

Like the lover smitten

Melts-in sans wait much 

Woes of living away so far

Were not to upset my spirit

If the form of forlorn tears

Not looked raindrops a bit  

No news from winds so thick

Nothing from the skies

Wonder if I breathe again

The life in her sighs

Love’s burden seems dour

Yet I tell my heart

The brief raindrop on my brow

Is not gathered to part

Well, they don’t realise they’re gonna get wet anyway

Leaving some gentle moments behind,

When the demons of solitude let me smile;

They desert me often, often they’re kind.

I find my answers, I breathe them in,

And keep them there before they hurt;

When the man in me erupts to rule,

I become a child, a child curt.

We discovered this beautiful lake one evening in Kanchipuram. The TV guys went for their story, we chose to explore the place instead.

The place is dim, as bars should be. Neither crowded, nor deserted. There is a sense of belonging here. I always enjoy coming to this place. I like the understated setting and the quaint furniture.

You enter through the large wood and glass door and are immediately taken aback by the fascinating sound of ice cubes hitting the walls of fine tumblers and the high spirited bartenders. The setting inside absorbs you at once. A striking painting which quite resembles Da Vinci’s ‘The Last Supper’ above the liquor bottles on shelves where a Johnnie Walker Gold Label occupies the headiest place. The dark glass tables with chairs aligned in no customary order and yet so superbly rhythmic; arranged at a distance from each other so that inebriated men don’t trip and fall. 

I can’t help but marvel at the camaraderie visible inside the bar. Most of the times, the music here is wonderful and when it is not, you only need a small drink to make it wonderful!  Everyone seems to be happy and the feeling is infectious. Random bouts of laughter with tinkling of the glasses, is beautiful melody in itself. Each gathering sees its gradual buildup to a crescendo better than the previous one.

The place jubilates in obscurity and there is a small melancholic verse I end up scribbling every time I am here. Melancholic, because pain seems to be a precursor of deeper pleasure. There seems to be a congregation of mortals going through anguish to learn and change with the experience of the evolved ones. For others, nothing really matters. It seems they are being directed, with no thoughts of their own and no control over their minds. I wonder if it’s that, if every thought that crosses our heads was meant to. Philosophical and fatalistic I think, but then the fact that I think what I think, could well mean I am being made to think like that. Maybe, there is no evil, no good. The interesting thing is despite knowing this there is nothing you can do about it and you have to live your life the ‘normal’ way. You have to go through the motions, get a job, make friends, do well, party, be professional (something that is mostly faked!) and so on…..and accept mediocrity as a part of life and live with it. So, I sit there and watch it all unfold.