“Round and around and around and around we go

Ohhh ohhh now tell me now tell me now tell me now you know

Not really sure how to feel about it

Something in the way you move.~ Rihanna, Stay

Mays are contemplative, mays are maybe’s. And, Mays for me have been a quiet hurl into an unknown new. I’m never certain what’s coming, but I am certain something is.

The May before last as we sweltered in the obnoxious Gurgaon sun, I spent many long nights contemplating a change of job. In-between trips to Chandini Chowk for big tumblers of lassi, and long and lazy evenings in Gk-1 where my aunt lives, I mulled over endless possibilities of Bombay, and Gurgaon, and new beginnings. The end of May was the beginning of new.

A roller-coaster year later, the uncertainty of May was upon me again. I worried my way through doctors, and hospital visits, and nurse stations and long and lonely nights that wouldn’t give way. The end of May was the start of a difficult new.

And yet, a May was upon me again. “Time only moves in one direction.” And, I had moved forward into the madness of May, long hours on-road, on my computer, and Saturdays in front of the television screen. Sundays have been quiet. Quiet enough to turn to cooking for company. Quiet enough to walk long hours in everyday parks with loud music for company. Quiet enough to turn to answers in horoscopes with fervour. And, loud with uncertainty.

Uncertainty makes me retreat. Into corners of coffee shops, and the lines of a swimming pool. Into books without covers, and a wok full of dirty schezwan potatoes. Into music. Into a magnificent view of the Bombay sea on a Monday morning. Into mild panic that I am learning to let loose

Through unknown unknowns,

And, all i want known.