The rooftop/terrace.

I am on my hostels' rooftop. 

At this time in the evening it's my favourite thing to do. The stars come out. And I am myopic. 

Four years ago my eye sight was incredibly accurate. I didn't need the help of glasses to see the world. 

Now I am staring the boys hostel, just able to make out the square windows and obscure figures.

Four years ago, when me and my friends were very new here and this very rooftop was our escapade we would just skim through the darkness making out weirdest of stories and blurting out ridiculous fantasies. And then someone would spot a half naked guy at the boys hostel who had forgotten to pull the curtains down, and then we laughed and laughed at the sight of his inane skin! 

Right now I am alone and myopic. I left my glasses in the reading room and I can't wait for this to get over. 

This is the quality a nearing end race offers! A feeling of hopelessness, desolation and desperation! More importantly happiness that beyond this there is something even more promising to work towards for. That I call a concoction of everything good and everything bad. Hopelessness and hopeful.

Besides there has been many funny things that has happened at the rooftop. Like waiting for the Perseid meteor showing. Waiting and waiting. Or sometimes doing some yoga. Yoga is so sexy. Anyone who's lived in India must do yoga!

I am writing this because I am growing impatient. Trying my best not to complain.

The wind is so clean and refreshing. Must take in all this beauty that nature has to offer. 

Peace-dr. Diksha

She makes me feel like...

She.

Yes, her.

She makes me feel like a ten year old child. That when just touched by the whiff of real world and your parents want you to learn something and enroll you and you embark on those lessons, guided by the nicest of the nice coaches/teachers/instructors. 

And you don't know but no ones judging. You are there to learn and no ones mocking. 

Today was an extremely beautiful day. Yellow sun, blue pool, pretty girls all around me. You get the drift right? 

And then she jumps in. I am tired of the laps I have done. Those clumsy free strokes I do to "improve my stamina" as I always say. 

"Today I will show you all the butterfly stroke," she says. Three of us those who have done over and over the freestyle and some of breast stroke surround her, like we were some glamorous sparky sharks and she an exquisitly beautiful niaid or a mermaid. 

And she just moves. Oh, the way she moves. And in the blink of an eye, she's gone.

Gone. Swam away. Beautifully. This gorgeous woman nearby me had left me agape and stunned and petrified and stupified. 

That deft incoming of both her hands together to propel herself forward! Those full hips hitting the water and emerging from the surface that caught everyone's eyes! That intense look in her eyes and the mouth parted to rejuvenate her lungs with more energy! Graceful! She is one gorgeous swimmer. 

And we clap, much stunned in amazement and absolutely involuntary clap. Little kids that we are, or are we? I hop and squeal, "wow!" 

That we decided to stay with this beautiful woman for a little longer and we gave up our morning class just to watch her and if permitted, to swim along with her. 

Afterwards we are still in the water. The three of us. Girl gossip in the water, going underwater and the clumsy butterfly strokes trial was today's morning.

I couldn't help but say it over and over, "I am so happy today."

Giggles. "I loooovvve water," cooes my friend. 

Life is good. 

Complemented by a heavy breakfast. 😊

Peace-dr. Diksha

Away away.

"Let's get out of this town,

Baby we are on fire". The lines are in my head. The haunting voice is singing from my little music box inside my head. And I am inside the swimming pool fully submerged. I am holding my breath and looking around. My limbs! My limbs feel so free and detached from me but still under my control. I wriggle my toes. The blueness enchants me and I experiment with the new found 3D effect that can be found in water or in space in the larger picture. I am no fish, I have lungs and I emerge my head out with a deep gasp.

"Do the butterfly stroke" 

I don't want to. Today I want to be away. So I have come to the deeper side. And I look at the sky. The feeling is ethereal. I float. I am flying. The sky beacons at me. The cloudless formless, story less vast sky. It makes my eyes shut and I am drunk in its generosity. The buoyant force propels me skywards but gravity pulls me back. And I am tethering in between these forces very much enjoying their want for me. The forces rocks me up and down and sideways. And I let myself lose. If the forces want me, let them have me.

"You have to learn the butterfly stroke!" I scream out in my head.  

I want to be away. I watch my friends and they are swimming. The curves are graceful and the strokes relentless. I want to be away from them too. Just right now I want to be with the forces. And muses. 

Somebody comes to my side. And as soon as she makes it here, I dive in and swim away. To a place where no one is there. And again I submerge and watch the world. Silent and free. Happy. 

The butterfly stroke can wait. The breast stroke can wait to be perfected. 

To learn to play the grand piano can wait too. I smile. This bucket list of things I had planned to complete by twenty two has been fully upended and reviewed over. Except one thing that remains. To play the grand piano in style. So that I can sing a Lana Del Rey. I am doing the things I want and I will do it in style, with fervor and endurance. With a will to do and not by coercion. In style. In sexy style. 

"Let's get out of this town,

Baby we are on fire.

Everybody here seems to be going down, down, down.

If you stick with me, I can take you higher and higher,

It feels like all of our friends are lost and nobody's found, found, found"

I get out of the pool before the time is up. Just so to be found, found, found.

 Peace-dr. Diksha.