Quickly, before I wrap up this day I sit down here with my thoughts to write a few of them on my blog. Because my blog sits here waiting until I can run from pillar to post and then neatly arrange the thoughts in my mind to form a structured post. Today, (and some others days) I think, “What the heck! Let’s just write for the joy of it.” It takes time for everything to arrange itself, like it did for the Pangaea to be the world as we know on school maps today, or for the recipe in your bookmarked items to come to the dining table, or for your destined events to hit you right when they should. Neat arrangement takes time, and yet when it all falls together it’s just about one single moment.

So, let me see, in this hurry of a day what have I not been able to do as I would have liked. 1) Read the Satyajit Ray that I have left dangling on the edge of a story. 2) Send out a gift I intended to. 3) Enjoy the lyrics of a song as opposed to just using it as a barrier between my mind and the people around me. 4) Just be.

This, and more, is what I would like to pack in my day. I would want my day to be a gift I unfold layer by layer as opposed to the jack in the box that it turns out to be. Sometimes, I swerve just in time to get saved and sometimes I get punched in the face. And then sometimes, it’s not a jack in the box. It’s a box done up in pastel d├ęcoupage, and when I open it I find neatly stacked presents – an old book, a cassette, a ruled notebook and a pen, a ticket to nowhere, scribblings of love, two pennies to get through the day, a newspaper clipping with some good news on it or a quick crossword, a thin untarnished chain and a tiny mirror. Sometimes, my days come to me like that. And life feels worth the while.