And the story goes on

The last day at Lilian Knowles, in a symbolic sense the last day at LSE. A certain kind of life or rather a lifestyle that I had known for the past year comes to its sweet end.
I was at uni earlier in the day, picked up the FT for 25p as usual. Induction benches were beginning to pop up at St. Clements. A group of Indian students were hanging around outside the Tuns, excited. Would they realise the opportunities for intellectual growth, accepting and understanding diversity (of people and views), and for creating long lasting friendships? I hope they do.
After helping Adu and Shreya move out of the hall, this last night at Knowles left me with Tiny at the wrestler's place. We had a feast, and one of the men at the counter threw in some extra food for us for free. Kind! I kidded myself sitting there like an out-of-business mafia boss with my loyal henchman and friend Tiny. We stayed for a little longer than usual.
Tomorrow, a few of us return to unknown waters, and the story goes on.

I am the storm

It was me on that road
But you couldn't see me
Too many lights on, but nowhere near here

It was me on that road
Still you couldn't see me
And then flashlights and explosions

Roads are getting nearer
We cover distance but not together
I am the storm and I am the wonder
And the flashlights, nightmares
And sudden explosions

I don't know what more to ask for
I was given just one wish

It's about you and the sun
A morning run
The story of my maker
What I have and what I ache for

I've got a golden ear
I cut and I spear
And what else is there
Roads are getting nearer
We cover distance still not together

If I am the storm if I am the wonder
Will I have flashlights, nightmares
And sudden explosions

I don't know what more to ask for
I was given just one wish
.
.
.
There's no room where I can go and
You've got secrets too

Birthdays

The 28th was ushered in effortlessly and with no artificial displays of pomp, thanks to a few close friends. The evening before began with a walk by the Thames and then a dance, courtesy the Thames festival. Food was had by the Tower Bridge and a band playing some good music served as dessert. A pleasant walk to Brick Lane and we found ourselves in a bar which had the ambience of a student house party. The bar counter and the dj's turntable seemed to have been stuck into the basement in a hasty fashion. A few drinks and we stepped out onto the street where the bar's ambience spilt over. And as the clock struck 12, I found myself on the couch of a sheesha bar with company I love and who let me be the freak I am. I couldn't have asked for anything more.
I am 28, unemployed and the road ahead looks very good.