The Land of Ecstasy!

Reading the title, they who know me would definitely presume that I am talking about Guntur. This time rather in a pursuit to seamlessly escape their difference, maybe I should use some proven literary lemma to define what in fact, ‘the land of ecstasy’ could mean to me than describing Guntur. ‘Creating life on the Moon’℗ or a wonderland of Lewis Carroll are as you know, way too far for my senses of imagination (at least for this moment).

Yet I have been giving my best shot while enjoying the beautiful colours of the Fall at Nashville, imagining how the life of ‘next-gen’ children can be with animated books, of course quite possible through gizmos like iPads and schools turning into iGloos while professors finding the ease through these new teaching aids. If you like the conception I have a whole narration once done in a rather ambiguous situation, but that saga justifies for the title ‘land of sophistication’ or ‘land of fantasy’ as described by Rowling.

My naïve imagination also proved useful sometimes to stay away from dormancy during a somber lecture. The imagination in this case was the gloomy professor ‘in bikini at the beach’™. The thought did the required magic from the humour it generated. Yes, I am talking this now. On the contrary, I also sleep for imaginations in dreams.

Sleeping few hours more than prescribed is a quirk of mine and bringing that point here is what I feel is a nostalgic recollection even to few others who were associated with me and found it almost unendurable to break my impeccable sleep. Not killing the brevity in presenting the idiosyncratic nature of them, an instance is ‘how much light can possibly be stored in a steel container’. I was fascinated that morning learning that light has particle nature too. Though the dream was an unrealistic lab platform it supported an argument I could evidently not do consciously, of course not even with you. Yet nothing is so ecstatic about the sleep.

Appa, I always postponed expressing it to you, how magnanimous you were to me, believing that by tomorrow I would do that better by being a better me. I did not know then that I would wake up that 'tomorrow' to learn that I would lose the opportunity for this life! I ask God, better me now, to fulfill my expression through You! Now I sign-off to sleep for the ecstasy from the belief that I could still fulfill the expression in your presence, my pater at my land of ecstasy, the land of my recreated opportunity. So I do long for more hours of sleep for the rendezvous. I shall keep in touch as always as I did, as always as you said.