IndigOranges

  One of those evenings, which as of now are showing up more frequently than before. Some of these are whole days. Days when one wakes up to these thoughts and which hold the whole body and not just the mind in its unrelenting grasp. On such days one wishes there was somewhere to go to fast. Maybe if I had a vehicle I could have just left this city behind and deposited myself in one of those temple towns which have done so much good for me usually. but of course driving remains an elusive art. the twin demons of laziness and putting it for another day (the word escapes me) sitting pretty on each shoulder. Escapism. Always the escapism. What else is new. All those years the comfort of women and their bodies. The associated emptiness and the guilt. The void immediately after they leave the house. The temporary solace of a warm comforting body and the soothing sounds of a kitchen in use. Of having someone to hold and speak to a fellow human for a change. Instead of me talking to the