Glimpse of a flashing thought

Sometimes thoughts can be like flashing landscapes that whiz past you on your train window - beautiful, random and nothing you can dwell upon.

They are stubborn and uninhibited like a bunch of unruly children, especially when you want to block them and want to have a time when your mind can be blank as white paper, when you want to meditate or want to soar high above these cottony clouds.

They just have to come and go and ruffle your mind. When they get into this battle of wits with you, you might as well lay down your weapons as you know who will win hands down.

They do as they have this capacity to just charm their way into your conscious mind and draw you to those pleasurable mini reveries ...

.... Like those homemade kaleidoscopes where you put in a handful of broken bangles in a mirrored cardboard tunnel and every time you jiggle and look through there is an ethereal design glinting mischievously in red, green and aqua-blue colours against the sun.

... Like on the days when you have time to yourself and you rifle through your drawers, meaning to organise them, but end up opening a lot of forgotten papers, some photographs, credit card bills, a forgotten chewing gum almost withering away in its yellowed paper, a beautiful marigold flower you left to dry in a book, now with its gauzy saffron petals stretched out like a well preserved butterfly against the blank page.

... Like on the days when you are not driving and get a few minutes to yourself staring out of a cab window at nothing in particular, pretending to be a tourist in a limbo. The sand swirling on the hot tarmac looks like a writhing serpent in heat, dancing to a soundless melody.

... Like on the days when you feel like being a wall-fly and park yourself at a non-descript corner of a café where you watch the world around you just go by. The lukewarm tea in the cup swirls around like a mini whirlpool as you stir it, loving the gentle tinkle of the spoon on the delicate china. You pretend to read the tea leaves, concentrating on the whirlpool in the cup - is it clockwise or anticlockwise and does it mean something?

.... Like the occasions when you are depressed and you mentally call out the colours that bring a smile to your face - Red - the colour of a dripping-sweet watermelon, split open at its bulging belly, yellow - the sea of undulating mustard fields swaying to an invisible music, green - the colour of fresh grass that sprouts after monsoon spell, emerald - the colour of the lake with its cool mossy banks on a summer afternoon ....

... Like the rain of scarlet gulmohur (flame) flowers on your car bumper which looks like a bedecked Indian bride, when you are lucky to get a parking under the gulmohur tree.

.... Like the times when you've been thinking about someone all day when the phone rings and you instinctively know it is him and you can't help marvelling at the unwitting serendipity of thoughts.