Rainy Spring Days

There are days when you wish; you were out of work and without a roof over your head.

Because, there are days when it is spring and it rains too. On such days, I am starry-eyed.

And, on such days I wish to be on a hillock, wandering like a mystic. No people, no noise.

I and the desolate blossoms. I and the virgin breeze.

In addition, a few sips from my coffee mug and my tattered Anna Karenina in my lap should be enough. With these bare necessities, amid the spring serenity, life surely will be something like what they call ‘forever’.  

There is more to this romanticism. I hurt myself last evening. During my evening walk I bumped into a guy who was so busy on his phone, probably with his beloved, that he couldn’t care less about the other mortals around him. I tripped, quite ridiculously fell on my fours and hurt my left knee. It’s bad and now, I can’t walk. So, basically, I am such a waste right now that all I can pull off is being dreamy.

I can’t walk yet I yearn to be on the hillock I can see from my house. Precisely the reason, I love springtime. 

Every spring is a season of reincarnation. Every spring, the entire flora awakens to new life and so do I.     

But then, there are people and there is noise.                                     

There is job anxiety and the boundaries of the house.

The daily blahness and the lasting customs.

Sigh! They conspire and spoil my resurgence saga!

I need a sorcerer with a magic wand. I need to fly to the hillock.

The one with the desolate blossoms. The one with the virgin breeze.