there are pink heart shaped clouds in gujjar khan

26Aug07

the next time you want to feel alive, i strongly recommend you try letting your horse gallop at full speed along the ghoragali track near murree while your arms hang loose by your sides. its rash, dangerous, the most ridiculous way to get a thrill possible and yet – beautiful. or you could sit on a rock in shangrila, watching the world disappear in milky white wisps as the clouds envelop you and the only sound you can hear is the gentle rumbling of distant thunder. you could, if you are so inclined, go a little off track in the margalla hills and see, feel, hear, smell, taste the life all around you. or you could sit on a manji in any village along the gt road and watch the stars light up on the clear night sky. or you could stop your car on the motorway near lawrencepur and listen to your own heart beating over the roaring sound of silence.

or maybe, through the rotten flu symptoms, you could spend the night taking in the panacea that is her voice on the phone. two hours and twenty one minutes are all it takes.

this evening there was a huge pink heart shaped cumulus over gujjar khan. and i don’t know why but david bowie was crooning i’ll be there for you-oo-oo as the world falls down on the radio. that’s heady stuff. then again, so is the smell of her damp hair in the mornings.

why is it only possible to be unfunny when i mention her?

Filed under: fudge, iceman on gt road, the sweet stench of life   |  31 Comments