Counting the rain drops, raining the mindblocks

After all my day in Mumbai did not turn that dark and rainy, I had one of those euphoric moods so I would give everyone a huge hug just smiling at them. It is a moment when my heart is jumping happy and the sky would be bright blue full of sunshine no matter how dark and stormy night it really is. It is my coming out of the filthy tunnel of an anger and disbelieve excusing myself of all failure. Greeting everything as it comes, making it all my way.
Mumbai is a Bentley going through the dirtiest slums, where people have not slept under proper shelter forever dreaming about smallest progress. The gap is only getting greater, nothing new in this part of the world either, it so deep that those down there would be forsaken all their life unless they could fly.
Roaming the streets of one of the largest cities in the world I do not get more attention than regularly, taking a picture of the British built Gateway of India, favourite tourist attraction... Where am I getting when I find myself at such spot? It is that I am somehow becoming a routine, I am feeling my spark and excitement dissolve in the time lines stretched by. It has not been 3 months yet and I am already tiring myself loosing a track of my primal devotion and purpose. I have to do something more, more than just roaming pointlessly. I feel sometimes way too eased up, almost nothing can disturb me and the other minute it is a little honk and I go mental. Reason for these extremes is that I feel inactive, not doing too much of anything fulfilling, not last few days, or is it just that there so much happening that it feels casual I cannot be too bothered? (I am trying to retrospect recent happenings.)
Being a little rain-splashed to the darker place in my head here in Goa makes it strange typing about positives or anything. And I still write this with a smile on my face, I wonder whether this text is as amusing for you as it is for me, I guess it rather sounds like nonsense. Well that is exactly what I see when looking at the mirror.
In Goa I stayed with a weirdest person of my trip so far, the spaces very far out there... Craziest approach, smoking gecko's tails dipped in the finest Blender's Pride Indian brew I soon found myself swimming in the Indian Ocean. There was no other way I could imagine myself meeting up with this huge pool. Ocean has accepted me and greeted me well feeling my appreciation. The day was only young and so more tails and jars ended up shaking my embodiment, twisting the spirits. Following has not been much different from first, I in a way have enjoyed this gentleman - as declared by himself - sick mind, me trying to understand it more and learn from it. It would always catch my interest watching self-trashed human being in conscious realisation of this fact, trying to carry on with life and perhaps give it a good dot. More it is close to myself realising my own self-destructive instinct as a contrary to survival one. Three nights were enough for me to flee away. Not too far though. Generally the life in westernised Goa - main income of this district is tourism, so it is made - leaves a bit trashy impression. At least it is off season and not many of us is around and so everything is much cheaper - I found a ramshackle(never heard this word before but I love it) room but with clean sheet and lock on the door and even my own bathroom for 200 Rupees(I firstly wanted to squat a place on the beach but did not have enough guts, also a boat did seem as a possibility but rain was stronger mind-maker) and rented a motorbike for 150 Rupees for whole day. And I rode all around, spent a rainy day scooting to the unknown places of nearby villages, shooting some pictures (oh yes, I must praise myself for fixing my dear Yashica and we can again fully enjoy snapping a wild shots together;). Soaking wet I enjoyed few bottles of Indomerican beer with strangers in the strangers' bar, sharing of a local stories and travel experiences. Thanks to this meeting I also have a place to stay in Bremen. It feels so good to encounter a sincere invitation and I cannot help myself not declaring such a meeting successful...
Today I checked out, drunk tea and played Vietnamese card game with new American friends and bought a book for my tomorrow's train ride to Hampi - Huxley's final book Island - and I am not pessimistically but prospectively looking forward.

rock&roll