Tuesday, 6 November 2007

To myself.

Statutory Warning: This entry has been solely written for myself. Others will get bored on reading them.

It's rather easy to perform unbridled criticism on things we dislike. Our likes and dislikes are shaped by the society and our surroundings. And may be for this reason, we can not be always very vocal about the things we personally like, or love. Here I shall write about all the things I love. I love the smell of wet soil, the smell of light rain at night, and the splashes of rain my window generously permits into my room. I love to accompany my father in his car whenever he goes out to the petrol pump. We both then enjoy the smell of it. I guess the smell is better because my father is always there with me.
I love it when its sunny outside. I like to settle with a good book in the verandah. A light shower of rain means light music, books and coffee. I like being alone. And I like being with people. Seems contradictory. But I like both. I like to see the small frogs outside my house hopping all over [No, not because I am frustrated and intend to kiss them into a Prince]
I love to crack not-so-very-funny corny jokes. especially with my classmates. we then manage to produce great guffaws of laughter.
I love daydreaming. I love the internet, my pc, and the many cats and pig pictures i have saved in it. And I love walking, and exploring my city. It's funny. You go to places you have never been before, and yet you feel nostalgic- That's Calcutta for you, that's home for me. Someday I would like to visit places I have heard of so much- My country. Like a vagabond. Take me anywhere to roam about. I shall love it.
I love the sounds of silence- the soft constant humming which seems to go on even if there is no noise. The early morning choir- of birds, the way they respond if you hide and whistle at them, slowly. I love the way my grandmother used to call out to my grandfather, while he would enjoy the day without his hearing aid.And also they way she would call out to the laundryman who would always forget to take the sarees for ironing. The constant chatter of my father- a perfect doting dad. My curious sister, always on the prowl to know whom I am seeing, and if not, why. My mother- who drinks life to the lees. My home; My friends- I love all my 'lous' [victims of this term will understand], my classmates, my school. I love them all.

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