Once again, it's in the dead of the night that i'm struck with the desire to, no... need to write something. Which makes me feel like the old me. That is - the younger me; the way i was some time ago. It wasn't really a long time ago, but it just feels like a lifetime, which is really strange.

Memories from long ago are crystal clear in my head, like that pungent (but inexplicably comforting) smell of spices in a south indian flour-mill many years ago in a town with an unpronouncable name, or that little pool of water - a gutter really, below the tiny bridge that the school bus went over everyday, and seeing a water-lily in that for the first time ever. Or even the weight and texture of the hands that never should have trespassed and touched the flesh that wasn't willing, ready or old enough to understand. It's all fresh in the mind like it happened yesterday. Only it didn't.

On the other hand, more recent years - at least a couple of them - are completely unclear and hazy - like bits of a dream that you try in vain to remember the next day, like a foggy winter morning in an unfamiliar new place. So much so that sometimes something flashes before my eyes, like a waking dream; something vaguely familiar, and i'm left astounded, for i don't know if it really happened, and if the person i saw was really me. And i know that if i delved on it, closed my eyes just long enough, it would all come back bit by bit. All of it. But i don't. I understand that it is my mind trying to self-heal, by blocking away memories that have no place in my life anymore. And i'm ok with that. I know by now that my mind is a more reliable friend and guide than my heart.

And besides, why would i want to go back to that dank, dark place? It's nice to have the noises in the head silenced finally, to have the cloud lifted. It's great to see the bright side of life, and to be simple and uncomplicated again.

So here i am, in the dead of the night, realizing that i will be good, and clear as water, with no exciting new secrets. There will be no more being an enigma - and the adrenaline and other heady stuff that goes with it, and i'm not complaining. That was my kick then, this is my nirvana now.

So now, maybe i should get back to the much neglected, half-done presentation. Only, that is something that the older (the younger) me would do. So instead, i'm going to call it a night and get my 7 hrs of sleep. Till the next time, then!