Sunday, August 24, 2008 

Blank Pages

Words fly left...words fly right...fluttering white wings like kabootars across my private blue sky. With the grace of a Lucknowi nawaab I keep clapping as each one of them out ventures out of their cage on their chartered flight path.

The secret to gracefully let them go is knowing the fact that they'll come back to their safe abode. It's too predicably cozy to be missed for the of the uncertainaties of the wild wild world out there. The concept of coziness have been programmed carefully in their genes for generations. That makes me confident that my kabootars will return back to my white pages with the smell of sunshine, clouds and raindrops gathered from the skies.

But what happens if the programme breaks down -- if the uncertainities are too tempting than the predictabilities. Will my blank page remain blank forever ?