It's strange how much I like burnt food. It's stranger when I find myself scrapping the bottom of the wok to salvage the burnt, the disfigured. And then promptly pop them in my mouth.
I’m a dreamer, with a song on my lips and the beat to the song in my heart. I travel, God knows where. But I travel nevertheless and go where the journey takes me. And along the way, I meet fellow travelers, some friends, some strangers and some stranger still :)
I listen to their stories…their heartaches, their ecstasies, their beliefs, their faith, their pettiness, their redemption, their salvation. And as i listen, before I even know it… something miraculous happens…I fit. I’m finally one among them.
The day is filled with stories - happening and waiting to happen. The day is full of journeys - of the body and of the soul. The day is full of surprises...at every unexpected turn.
Finally, what does the day leave behind? Me...stripped of facades and charades, with nobody to fool or be fooled in return. 'I' remain and this...is my story at the end of the day :)
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