into deep water

This might have been the longest breaks where i stopped writing about places, people i hang out with and places where i existed. the grand manor, where brahmaputra flowed actually left to right, the panoramic view. for the days running early in the morning alongside and over it, across one of the largest riverine islands to end up for a day at majuli. green apple sizzler, the straws inverted, the grand pizza, i’m here at jorhat. madam gogoi on failed coffee latte. 

east khasi, for the time here, an escape. where insta was cut, so were other modes, limited whatsapp communication and a bunch of unknowns turned knowns. for a time i walked, ran, jumped into shallow water, drowned, danced in a moving car to rolling down tears at the back of it with sunglasses on and some low-key music. for a time through all the meadows and stretched sunset views i revisited all the life i had once, for the time i was in university, some good friends, all the energies of the world and all together a grown up kid whose tantrums now finds no person to be together. it all went through places i existed, packers and movers i have been through, the kite runner amir and hassan, the light house family and all the good reading i once had, scattered in some other part of the world now.

 i let the gentle breeze flow in, i let no network zones follow us for a long, i let myself sit on clouds and listen to tenny, who played good music. the people i met, i was fun, to have a good company around, to play a good music through out. 

i jumped from thirty feet into deep water, i let all the fear rush through, adrenaline rush. before that day, drowning again and losing myself to flowing water. i read deep water, english literature back in higher school. the same day i was going down, and this time it was more than thirty, i lost all control on my hands and legs, for seconds it was all fear of death, lungs were out of air and more water was in, i see myself fighting, i see it going down, only my hands. i’m out after jop jumped, swam and threw life jacket at me, i don’t remember the rest. It is said three men were out in water to pull me out of it. i let all the fear rush through. 

i'm chasing sunsets, into the  clouds, onto the doors of a five-year-old, the huts and fields. i carry one in my arm and throw him up in the air. 

and in this time i’m here, i miss home, for the long travel on days i'm back at, people i met and they left to their cities, yet i'm not. evenings, i'm here, in shillong, hitting smashes over table tennis with some other people who would leave again

(grammar has been left casual, some sentences are intentionally left incomplete, and the blog is written in pieces across places)