I have a pimple growing straight out of the centre of my forehead.
Booomp at the mid-point of my brow on an invisible median, like a secret beacon upon my bindi spot, straddling my ajna chakra. [gasp]
I almost feel affectionate towards it, ugly spot. I wonder if it means anything, spiritually speaking?
So much for meaningful blogging. ha ha. [and a third for Paddy Clark.]
M's right, the word 'blog' and all its super-clever derivatives are annoying. Idiotic. Poopy.
The sibling's gone, leaving a big-crater void that I didn't realise had space to grow. Yet again, this same year I am reminded that physical distances do matter. Bombay is not the same as New York. Delhi to KL is not the same as Kalkaji to Nehru Place. It's the distance between an email and a touch. A phone call and a smile. Tears and a hug.
Airports are loaded places. loaded with love, sorrow, pain and longing.
I hate airports.