The Older Stories : The New Beginning

It was 9 in the morning . Misty Chennai air was already becoming warm with the
overflowing Sun . The air smelled of coffee , sweat and something else . I think it was the new beginning.

The odyssey was on from a long time , I dont know since when , worklife , college days , school
toddling , perhaps even earlier , may be from my earlier births for the desire was choked to the point of thirst of decades . But it did not matter , the last battle was over , the war was won .

Things were excellent back at my place . My adopted child was dead , struck by lightening perhaps . My clothes were soaked in barley whiskey somewhere , I did not collect them .
It was a dry season , famine havoced the skies outside and the taps inside , water if at all
was full of iron salts , distasteful . My scrolls and books were long due , warnings were there
everywhere . But it did not matter , the last battle was over , the war was won .

It really took time to seep in that the war was over and I was back on track . That I was
free to run again , boundless and mercurial . In the direction of the open sun , towards
stars and comets . There was this stupid dampness everywhere and water seemed to condense
making my vision hazy . Those were not tears i know . Warriors dont cry .