Crisscrossing the state, legs slightly weary, eyes mildly sleepless, head mildly aching - more like fatigue than a headache really. With all this, mind still looking forward with hope and smiles towards a quiet, serene look at hills and waterfalls and lakes, and open, clear, blue skies. Even as I buffet along from one town to another , at times like an impatient storm in search of a direction or , at other times, like some stray, feeble, almost lonely cloud, longing for a foothold in the sky, I have yet not forgotten that the end of this journey is the beginning of another. A month and a half into the a campaign which seemed endless at times. A jet-setter in elections, but a part neither of elections nor of jet-set, in politics but not a politico, in the midst of a campaign but not a campaigner, in public glare but not a public figure, I seek a lonely nook, a retreat, a quiet hour which I could fill with a handful of fragrance, a patch of sky, and a few sounds of the motion of earth and of stars and of spheres as go I deternally on in a journey of which no one knows the destination nor the origin.
Posted on: Mon, 28 Apr 2014 07:29:16 +0000
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