City don't cry

I love going to the city. Its a small city. More of a town. Cozy. Like a grandmother.
I love that about it.
Even the road towards the city is beautiful. A prelude.
I ride. With my instincts, more than a sense of direction. And yet, I am so confident.
The front brakes don't work. But who wants to use them anyway?
I ride.
I race against the wind. I race against my pain.
I ride.
I always win. And the city is my reward.
A walk by the river. Fleeting thoughts. Of what should have. Of what could have.
Butterflies and zebras and Moonbeams...
She's known me for a while now, the city. Knows my pain too.
What can she do? She has her own to tend to.
She offers respite. I scramble for it.
But mostly, she just makes me feel at home. I can stand next to her river and watch the sun set for ever. And then stay more. To watch the city lights reflect in the waters.
I think she likes me for that.

And then the time comes to go back. I have to. No, I haven't won her over yet.
I would go back and play away her blues. But I am not good enough.
One day I will call her my mine. No. One day, she will call me her own.

What is our purpose in life?
Our purpose in life is to find a home.

Sigh

Oh am so cool! I got writer's block!

Can you stand the silence?

What will we do when there is nothing left to talk about?

No I am not in a mood to actually think of a title.

Another night. Another hill. This time I am closer to home though. Closer to my people. Its peaceful here.

It wasn't, in the city. With its harsh lights and sounds. The magic potions which would make you forget, atleast for a while. The clinks and thumps and smokes and high pitched uncontrollable laughter. The fake dreams and lost causes. Lost causes.

Even the night was unforgiving. With its tales of unrequitted love and futility of life. Amidst slow blues. Ugly. Sometimes I wish I could never have been able to appreciate the blues. Life would have been easier.

And still I slept with a stupid smile. Was it the blues or was I laughing upon myself?

Lost causes. Was I running behind all the wrong things? I nearly lost my people because of it. I nearly lost my home. I didn't. My people took care that I didn't. Thank God for old friends.
Not long ago my friend had threatened me- You try as hard as you can to hide from us, but rest assured we will find you.

I bank on that threat.

Today I wished that my life would be a bollywood movie. That they would understand. That I would jump onto my superbike and ride into the sunset. That I could make everyone happy.

Turns out it isn't. They let me go, but I end up jumping inside a Rickshaw. And it refuses to take me on. I end up not getting the girl. My playlist ends up queuing all the wrong songs. I end up hurting others and getting hurt in the process. And I end up puking in front of all the wrong people.

I guess we are not the swaggering, strutting heroes afterall. We are little people, you and I. With little dreams and little ambitions and little insecurities which seem colossal to us. And my dream is always bigger than yours. The pangs of unrequited... whatever.
Little people...!

Someday, these blues will end and some others will begin. In the grossly imperfect movie that is my life, all is not well, and never will be. And I have gladly come to terms with that. Thank God I can appreciate the blues.

It might be the blues, or it might be the subconcious me laughing upon myself.

But I guess I will sleep with a stupid smile tonight.

Please tell me you recognised him. Even if you didnt. Just tell me.

Clapton God. Because I insulted him a few posts ago. Though sucky sketches dont seem to be that good a redemption. Done in about ten minutes each with a 2B, really fast, just to get the tones right, more than anything else.
Because this blog was supposed to be about sketching and painting, more than anything else.

PS- No, one of them is not Chinese. He is singing with his eyes closed. Dimwits.