Occupied

A carefree sun reaches in through the blinds, dispelling the chill of february winter as miles of snow spreads outside, sparkling white in the bright sunlight. It has been chilly and snowy past few days, here in boulder. A concert by coldplay was watched yesterday, and a sumptuous lunch was had day before, as a treat to a parting friend, in an upscale Italian restaurant. A vegas trip fills the next weekened, and work fills the between. Over the passing hours, some self-searching discussion was had with friends, about the perspectives on life, desire to move back to India. Opinions were hurled at each other, sides were taken, and reason and emotion were made to clash, as consensus remained ever impartial. Aha the pleasures of expressing, relating, searching, working, playing, listening, hanging out (not by a rope, mind you), in the company of good friends. It seems all minutes lie accounted for, all seconds are occupied, life is full, happening. And yet, there are questions that mind no busyness, interrupting every now and then, sneaking like traitors, pointing to the unpainted landscapes inside, where miles of snow spreads, sparkling white. And where I eventually wander, chasing the infiltrators to their homes on the snowy expanse, these questions, upon the meaning of life, my existence, love and compassion, desire and misery, fear and death.