(can't think of any appropriate title)

I saw a dog die today - a stray puppy, barely couple of months old. I was walking by to get a cup of tea. I saw this litter of 3-4 of them playing on the road. I remember thinking this could be dangerous for them. While walking back, after a few minutes I find one of them lying in the middle of the road, apparently hit by a vehicle, bleeding, dying. I didn't know what to do, but thought I should pick it up and put it by the sidewalk. There wasn't much blood, but I guess it broke it's neck. I took it and kept it by the sidewalk. I went and bought a bottle of water, but I somehow knew it would be dead by the time I was back. I was back and the puppy was dead (and warm). The mommy dog just came by and sniffed it; the rest of the litter were still playing around.
(Back then I was feeling so totally detached and unemotional about it. But now I feel strangely melancholic. Two months old maybe? Blah! Chicken we eat is barely a month old, aye?)

Coward!

Rather not - but for how long! When I read about wanderlust and the deeds of the wonderfully travelled gentlemen and ladies, I truly feel restrained; caged in my own comforts and yet secretly yearning to wander.
And then I snap out and say - Blah! There is no better word for me.

Rain Romance and lost Hopes.

Watching Thoovanathumbikal. How beautiful it would be if it starts raining when you start thinking about somebody! Rain, romance and lost hopes.

Fantasy.

Do you know what could be more fantastic than saying that you are familiar to all the nook and cranny of this city, but a stranger to most other?  It is to tell that you are neither familiar with nor a stranger to this city and many many other cities.