What do I write ?

Well there are times when so many things criss cross the mind clearly and you wish there was someway to transfer them on the screen and save. Gone is the impulse to take a paper and write down and feel heavenly. About the bus conductor (fair/young and a look that doesn't suit his job, c'd be doing Marathi plays instead) who for god knows what reason, gives a welcome smile everytime I board at any point of the route the bus plys, and which amuses me. Or the discussions centred around Marathi as a language which makes even the introvert in the class open his mouth, of those child like expressions on adult student's faces when some part of them deep down in their psyches has been touched and its as if you have opened a door for them to step out into a new fascinating world. Of the cool fresh morning air that defies the Red hot ball sticking out there in the eastern sky, of the woman who walked into my class before joining, to observe how I go about 'training people in spoken English'. She turned out to be a post doctorate-ex radio jockey (hindi) and we gelled in an instant, the next one and a half month being spent like two inseperable high school girls ! Talk of life really kicking in your late thirties ! Then there is this moment in the early morning Tea session I have with myself (having gotten over the shock many years back, of not having the ex-friend/now husband to share the morning sip, which's like a ritual in my maternal home) and the black and white letters on the pages I read from a book every day. The book talked about people who have left dear Earth but who you could connect to if you wanted to. And there, memories of my granny telling me stories of Goldilocks and the three bears, Cindrella, Seven dwarfs, these three being my all time favourites flooded my mind and I wondered if she could be looking down at me right now as I missed her. She was one person during my childhood days who fed me what I wanted, was very loving and caring and thought the world for me during the many times Mom left me in her care, taking my little brother along, which made me very jealous of the brat and I almost thought that mum didn't want me. She would wait with snacks and a cup of tea daily, when I returned from work in Bangalore. Later when I got married, I even got a letter from her saying that she missed me a lot in the evenings. How lonely old age can be ? Well got to go once again to cater to domestic demands !