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Life is a long, wondrous and continuous introduction to yourself.

The act of creation — it leads me to unknown places. Only to make me realize that all was known, always. And yet, I live every day with the hope that I’ll explore, create and grow into someone new. Because what’s life if not a long, wondrous and continuous introduction to yourself.

In this journey, music lives by my side. I find melody in my writing, and a lot of writing in my melodies. Sometimes, I hear songs in the bubbles of boiling tamarind water. Or in the stroke of red paint over the canvas. Or in the giggles of a child after a good joke. Tunes find their way even into my boredom, curiosity and the thoughts in between. And a rhythm taps into my sorrow, so it can take the leap to laughter.

Such is music. Such is life — yours and mine.



"I am going home". Most of us say this atleast once every day. The verb apart, the reference of "home" varies from person to person. For some, it is going back to that house they have rented. For some, its getting back to the hostel they live out of. For others, it's the place their "families" live. But somewhere hidden inside is a desire to smile when you think of a place called "home". A place that sends a gush of happiness, zen and delight in our hearts. A place where you long to go to. A place that would either bring back fond memories or has the potential to create many fond memories. A place that's more than just four walls, a roof and some people. A place that's rich with the feeling of peace.

The crowd of millions running around in cities, finding ways to earn a living, sorting ways of having fun and crunching distances in the process, remains alien to that feeling for most part of their lives. Even their dreams somewhere are charted out with reality. The perfect home is closest to work place. The perfect home is where everyone can come and visit you easily. The perfect home has a lot of space and every materialistic facility. It's all cool. The perfect home is just fine.

But imagine this. You are 30 odd years old. You are in a profession that fulfills all your needs and wants. You have friends you have a care-and-share bond with. You have a partner who sees eye-to-eye with you for a love-filled lifetime. Everything is just great. And then, you have a month in hand off work, off-friends and off the life you created. You can go on a holiday. But you have done that so often. You can sit at "home". Which you've been doing every weekend. Or, you could "go home".

You decide to go home. There is a smile that the thrill of a leap brings. You've packed your bags faster than ever. Oh, but you don't really need to pack your bags. You've checked for everybody's availability. But do you really have to? You're not sure if you've the means to reach home. But you are not going to worry about it. You are going home anyway.

You go past cities, towns. You make your way through plush green fields. You can see the coconut trees approaching. The mountains have risen up to greet you. The breeze suddenly blows strong just to welcome you. You are at the doors of a small concrete house with the background of mountains and trees, the safety of birds and breeze and the warm  smile of the folks you've yearned to meet. You've arrived home.

Something similar happened to me over this weekend. A place that incepted a dream where i wanted to tell everyone "Nyaan ooru ku peindriken!" (I am going home.)

generalKavitacoimbatore, dreams, home