Take me away

Sometimes I feel like I'm God's very own entertainment package whose life he just sits back, with his jumbo-sized tub of caramel popcorn, and watches.
Shraddha Bhatia - Made in Circus.
For starters, he has made me clumsier than a rat scurrying backwards. On an average I have about 5 new scratches on me every day. You would say, that's probably in an ordinary room with an ordinary amount of furniture; but NO - even if its a flat piece of land with nothing but grass, I'd find myself a burrow to stick my foot into so that I can settle for a bruised nose instead.
And not even Einstein would've been as distrait as I am. Add that to one sleepless night and you'd have yourself a free clown.

On a more serious note though, I downrightly believe that he has in fact built a customized theme park for me which I'm sprung into from time to time purely because my funny ways propitiate his satire. All this, remember, with a JUMBO tub of caramel popcorn.
I, on the other hand, hurraying every single time my ride glides over a little knoll, luxuriate in the glory before I find myself atop a wild, gnarling beast. I grapple for steadiness (Picture Tom) - with my hair on ends, mouth open and tail widely out of the picture.
I glare at my creator upwards and there he is, my Jerry, giggling away with that mouthful of ,did I mention - caramel popcorn.
I pretend to be unforgiving and nasty, before he actually gives in and I find myself in an iridescent wonderland, with marshmallow flowers and chocolate fountains.

Ahhh!

I forgive. I forgive. I forgive thee.
Why don't I see your hidden glee.
I give you a hug, cuddling like a bug,
In your arms, I surrender me!

When I wake up, my credulity has once again been assumed, and this time it feels like I'm aback a fat centipede who is making its way inside someone's ear. The ride gets worse with each minute. I am tossed and exploited and juggernauted.
Oh! He has belied me again, I grouse and grumble and plan an escape, decidedly unwilling to grant amnesty.
Unexpectedly, I reach a pristine meadow, which pulls me in magnetically. I bask in it, looking up to return His mischievous smile with an angry pout and fall asleep.
Somewhere, in the middle of my blissful nap, I wake up to catch His eyes on me, the depth of which speak volumes of his love for me.
And that's when I notice; his popcorn bucket has nothing more caramelly than my hundred angels which protect me.




In your love,
my Jerry,
I shall wallow,
till eternity.





## His love, has its own ways.

### Don't take your foot off the pedal when life is just about to turn around.