Just like last year, this year also rain came totally unannounced. and damn, so much i love it. I was talking to a friend in evening, about how childish i become about first rains. And how i’ve never missed a year in last many years, to be drenched in that drizzles and feel the rain drops on my face, cooling me to the core.

And it rained. Not much though, but it did. Shortly after i finished talking to that friend. Then me, Pranav and Riz went out, to an open space. lied down on the grass, looking up at the sky, watching the thunder make different shapes in those clouds and enjoying that calm drizzle. Oh yes, it was not all calm actually, we danced, played music, let people think we went crazy and all, but again, all is fair when you’re naturally very happy!

Overall, my day spent real good just due to the rain itself!

Thank you GOD.. Or Mother nature!

Ekta.

“Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love. Then you do it for a few close friends. Finally, you do it for money.” - Moliere

 Really amazingly said! Isn’t it.

 ps. damn, am posting quotes, where the hell my writing skills are vanishing?!!

83 mails in 8 hours.

All on GPRS through my cell. Am going to go insane.

.. or may be I already am.

For every girl who is tired of being weak when she is strong, there is a boy tired of appearing strong when he is vulnerable.

For every boy who is burdened with the constant expectation of knowing everything, there is a girl who is tired of people not trusting her intelligence.

For every girl who is tired of being called over-sensitive, there is a boy who fears to be gentile, to weep.

For every boy whose competition is the only way to prove his masculinity, there is a girl who is called unfeminine when she competes.

For every girl who throws out her e-z-bake oven, there is a boy who wishes to find one.

For every boy struggling not to let advertising dictate his desires, there is a girl facing the ad industry’s attacks on her self-esteem.

For every girl who takes a step toward her liberation, there is a boy who finds the way to freedom a little bit easier.

… a walk.. hand in hand.

…. was this! And i can’t even thank that child!

Well, The weekend was hectic, too stressful at some level. Although it was really great in terms of intese emotions.

But I was sad nonetheless, for one or other reason.

And this made me smile. A mail from a friend, who told me last night that he had a weird dream about me, and I asked him to tell me what it was.

So here it goes, in his own words …

Ekta, 

you’d asked me to mail you my dream..so here goes.
(being a dream, im afraid its a bit vague, and also a
bit funny.)

the setting is some international beauty pagent
happening amidst elaborate interiors.
there’s a miss this and miss that..
MISS BEAUTIFUL HAIR passes by in a coreographed move
as MISS UKRAINIA or s’thing walks by .. amidst a
cluster of MISS ROMANIA’s and MISS CZECHOSLOVEKIA’s,
MISS INSOMNIA (you!) steps in. you were wearing
black jeans and some dark colored kurta with
mirrors and ornate embriodery. the wide silken ribbon
worn sideways from your shoulder has MISS INSOMNIA
written in bold letters, as if insomnia was some
country!

thats the little dream i had. i guess it has no
bearing whatsover, but in the logic of dreams..perhaps
it has a bearing? or maybe it has no meaning..just
that i’d been thinking of you too much, and you decided
to star in my dream & offer me a glimpse of your
self.

Now doesn’t that give you a smile as well?