Dear Calender,
Of the many enchanting fascinations I have had all my life, one is definitely for you. From the time you adorned the walls through beautiful images -- yes they were more important than the day and dates -- till when I started making my own or collecting special ones, you have always been a dear one. The image of the three leaves placed to form a Ganesha is my earliest reminiscence. Then there was that one time when I made six pages of you, two months each of fond moments, and finally getting those fabulous Satyajit Ray posters and Sandesh covers and of course, my aunt's precious gallery publications. People often say I am an elitist because I have a slightly upside nose to reject 'normal' calenders for extraordinary ones. But then, people also say I am uppity because I write with a fountain pen, sorry, only with a fountain pen, and value my watches as I would regard my children. Big deal. I do not believe in the pride of carrying a fancy mobile phone, or participating in the invisible competition of 'who is most upgraded'. I save exclusively to buy precious ink bottles and a variety of paper from all over the world, and can let go of a fragrance for that. Sorry, I digressed.
I respect your being neatly divided from macro unto micro. And I love garlanding the absolutely unmissable dates on you. So, exactly how happening is your life, with daily dates? Three sixty five -- that is an incredible number, you know, for anything! But, guess what? I am about to give you formidable contest. The last seventy five odd days have been some of the most special in recent times ever. Each day is a date, with all those little incredible things that make my heart beat each precious second. It is more exciting than disco lights and clinks of glasses. And more than anything I love commemorating each of those dates with you.
You are splendid, with your stoic nature with which you casually remind of the greater demon called time, and you are even more splendid when I go back your pages to travel through a timeline lived, which can never be altered. It is one of those travels that you never long to return to, but when you do you are greeted with unexpected newness.
My work-station would be empty without you, yet I refuse to cater to any random variation of you. You I wake up to, how can I not have someone I would like to? Though dated, you are limitless, not outdated.
Grateful for your extensive availability,
K.
Of the many enchanting fascinations I have had all my life, one is definitely for you. From the time you adorned the walls through beautiful images -- yes they were more important than the day and dates -- till when I started making my own or collecting special ones, you have always been a dear one. The image of the three leaves placed to form a Ganesha is my earliest reminiscence. Then there was that one time when I made six pages of you, two months each of fond moments, and finally getting those fabulous Satyajit Ray posters and Sandesh covers and of course, my aunt's precious gallery publications. People often say I am an elitist because I have a slightly upside nose to reject 'normal' calenders for extraordinary ones. But then, people also say I am uppity because I write with a fountain pen, sorry, only with a fountain pen, and value my watches as I would regard my children. Big deal. I do not believe in the pride of carrying a fancy mobile phone, or participating in the invisible competition of 'who is most upgraded'. I save exclusively to buy precious ink bottles and a variety of paper from all over the world, and can let go of a fragrance for that. Sorry, I digressed.
I respect your being neatly divided from macro unto micro. And I love garlanding the absolutely unmissable dates on you. So, exactly how happening is your life, with daily dates? Three sixty five -- that is an incredible number, you know, for anything! But, guess what? I am about to give you formidable contest. The last seventy five odd days have been some of the most special in recent times ever. Each day is a date, with all those little incredible things that make my heart beat each precious second. It is more exciting than disco lights and clinks of glasses. And more than anything I love commemorating each of those dates with you.
You are splendid, with your stoic nature with which you casually remind of the greater demon called time, and you are even more splendid when I go back your pages to travel through a timeline lived, which can never be altered. It is one of those travels that you never long to return to, but when you do you are greeted with unexpected newness.
My work-station would be empty without you, yet I refuse to cater to any random variation of you. You I wake up to, how can I not have someone I would like to? Though dated, you are limitless, not outdated.
Grateful for your extensive availability,
K.
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1 comment:
Excellent :) I do not think anyone has written a letter to calendar before . I remember a movie ( Mr. India ) where Anil Kapoor's helper's name is calendar who acted his main support function. I always thought the guy was very appropriately named in the movie... your blog reaffirmed my thought !
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