So, on the 2nd day of the year, down with a bad
cough and cold, I confine myself to my bed.
A balmy northern breeze, unexpectedly warmer, is caressing my face. And a
warmer sun is playing hide and seek with my feet. Through the leafy branches of
a tree, I can see tufts of gloomy clouds trying to cover up a lazy sun. Just
like empty thoughts jostling for space in my mind.
It
feels nice. Nice for finding some time for yourself and not getting bogged down
by the monotonous monochrome maladies of life. Often I have wondered about all
the efforts we put in our daily lives. To what does it round-up to? Another
year passes by and getting older by another year. But are we getting any wiser?
It’s incommodious as too many antagonistic thoughts queue up the thinking
wagon. Pages of a national geographic magazine adds fuels to the thought fire
and my heart clings to its deepest proclivity.
Someone
somewhere starts playing a mouth organ. These kind of tunes can make you nostalgic
instantly and for a moment you stop and turn back to glance at the road you
tread. A montage of memories fill up your thoughts. What you dig up from these
reminiscences is not under your control. But just like the tune of the mouth
organ, let it fill your soul. Life is not always about doing things the right
way. If you always try to measure up things and fret about them, it is actually
that very moment when life passes by and you fail to notice it.
Random,
chaotic thoughts embezzle my senses and I seem to drift away into a faraway
land where one’s life is like a utopian dream. But sometimes, such a feeling of
a chaotic mind helps. One must spend time alone for introspection. It is the
time when your soul opens up and you begin to comprehend the essence of your
life and how it should be. You begin to recognize yourself. It is the time when
you allow the mind to meet the heart and you begin to unravel your yearnings.
For a moment the sun hides behind
the clouds and I come back to my senses. Now the sun, through the leaves, creates
crisscrossing shadows on my face. Somehow it reflects the state of my mind. I
remember a fragment from the chapter ‘The Coming of the Ship’, in the book ‘The
Prophet’ by Kahlil Gibran:
“A voice cannot carry
the tongue and the lips that give it wings. Alone must it seek the ether.
And alone and without
his nest shall the eagle fly across the sun”.
