#jackwho?

Oh, today I feel like a million dollars. Not freshly minted. But a million dollars that have gone around the world. That has been exchanged to a street hawker for a roll of film. That has been exchanged for a ride to some jazz bar. A million dollars that has gone on its pilgrimage and found it’s way back so that it could be a million stories of a dollar that can fill a million volumes.

Today where I am, right now is no different from yesterday. Except the windows are open. And the workers are digging up a sandstorm outside. And my dilapidated building shudders, like a violent lullaby trying to put me to sleep. And I resist it as the jets in clear warm skies do their textbook manoeuvres as people on the streets cover their eyes with their palms to keep out the sun. The pilot, a roller coaster architect, creating his own twists and turns and rolls, probably oblivious to the eyes below, enjoying the G-forces, feeling the stick, kissing the clouds in his tinted helmet.

I love this. I love this. I love this. This craziness of the world. The lack of reason for people to act in such a way and say such a thing, beyond the seemingly ordinary, that makes every coming second unexpected. The world that makes even a poor man’s life seem like a movie script. Ups and downs. Lows and highs. The hint of a madness that blows up a mediocre moment to be etched into our lives forever.