While looking at my diary of 1996, of so many years ago, I came across this unfinished piece ..it looks like I was struggling to put to words a certain specific stream of thought that would lead to an ‘understanding’..the reason I like it is because I remember in it the old familiar struggle. So what if I abandoned it long ago but cant seem to admit it to myself yet :)

:I like many things: colorful, muddy, green, reflecting, warm, woody, blue, far-away..so many things come away from their paces to mingle in my thoughts and hover just outside my grasp.i have certain feelings for some things that almost don’t mix together..yet, they are old friends and comforting mates.

I think as a child I would have been quite taken by magic. As an older person it breaks my heart to think that the red roses that the shiny-hat-wearing magician pulled out of the long thin black band was a sleight of hand. It disappoints me to think about the way he would have construed the entire trick and spent long, frustrating hours perfecting his art.
But for the child, it was an entirely wonderful thing without deceit, entirely magical.It was not necessary to think about the different ways in which a particular form of matter had to behave, to follow universal rules so that a shiny black band could not just turn itself into a bunch of red roses at will. To the child, this awareness was simply not necessary.

Another thing I like is looking at old black and white photographs, their grainy surface, the faded white and black, the situation. It is fascinating for me to think about how that exact moment might have been, just before the photographer had caught the moment inside his camera. Of how the different shades of black and white were actually different colors, among all the colors that we know of; to think of how they would have become the people in it. it is almost as if, by not betraying that moment in its full glory, it had somehow kept some things away from the time-weary paper texture…that by denying it of an actual representation, it was possible to keep the warmth of the flesh, the shine of the eyes, the small wrinkles and cracked nails alive…