Muse of Melancholy

I spent the last weekend catching up with some of the ladies from my last job in India. Now, context: I worked there for barely two years. It’s been almost seven since I left. And yet, somehow, this little gang of women refused to fade into the 'ex-colleagues-I’ll-never-see-again' folder. Among the 5, I’d managed to meet three of them at least once every year (you know, enough to keep the friendship alive and the inside jokes updated.) But with two of them, I hadn’t crossed paths in nearly six years. Over the last few months, I'd been retreating to familiar feelings of comfort, places I had fun, places I felt safe. And I realized how these women had created a safe haven for me. A space where I could be vulnerable and still crack the silliest jokes without fear of being judged. And so a meetup plan began to formulate in my mind. After chatting with everybody individually, a WhatsApp group was created   (2 months in advance)and we figured out dates,locations and venues. There...

A few weeks back, I embarked on a solo trip to Kochi, Kerala. It was an equal parts work and an equal parts 'wrap your head around life’ kinda trip. There was no real itinerary. All I knew was I wanted to be close to the backwaters , visit the famed Fort Kochi area and eat one of the delectable chocolate cakes and take in the wonderful art at Kashi Art Cafe. I was also looking forward to fitting in a meeting with a very dear friend.  I landed in Kochi just before dawn on a red-eye flight from Sharjah. By the time I got into a cab, fatigue was gnawing at me. What should have been a ninety-minute drive to my hotel turned into an endless crawl through traffic. The digital map mocked me with a frozen ‘35 minutes to destination’ for nearly an hour. Just as I was about to give in to irritation, the skies opened. It rained with the kind of balance only nature knows: gentle enough to enjoy, strong enough to stir something in the heart. I pretended to be in a Hindi movie and stuck my hand o...