A Journey Poised To Be History

Eyes yearn to see the things already seen but which can now only be conceived of in dreams. Ears are desperate to hear the voices already heard but which can now only echo inside the body. Heart longs for the iridescent past which now looks upon by the present with great reverence. The waves of time have swept away precious moments of life which now will settle down in the ocean of history only to be leavened by those who cares to dive into this ocean. Wonder whether every journey culminates in such yearning or there is an exception?

It seems that we were just enrolled yesterday and went through the rigmarole of the admission processes. In life as the first of everything we do remains indelible in our memory no matter how far this struggle for our survival carries us, so was the first day of this memorable journey. The newly enrolled were nervously excited and vaunting of their achievements as the sea vaunts of its infinitude. Their eyes were revealing to them what they had woven during their years of preparation for this journey or in other words, they were living their dreams. Such moments of life can be best described by the feelings of the rivers when they reach the sea their soul desire, by the flowers when kissed by the early morning dew and by the scorched earth when the first fall of the rain reach it. The clouds of felicity which hovered over began to scud unobtrusively and the time carried them to the brink of the first year. At the end of this year, the eyes became the haven for the new dreams and lives found solace in the new bonds of friendship.

Envisage the yellow Mustard waving in the fields of spring, the passionately blowing winds of the summer and the nocturnal moon, I hope these are suffice to perceive the fellow travelers in the second and third years of this journey. Their spirits soared like the kites in the sky and the hope, which had taken birth the previous year, was now ecstatic about its newly gained wings. The heart wants to live through these two years again but the mind says the time is like the river which doesn’t retreat its path.

Ordained by time the final year arrived and its advent can be felt by the heart which was earlier in a state of beatitude but now felt a deep ambivalence about this journey. People were trying to confine the last glimpses of their friends in the diaries so that they don’t lose them in this whirligig of life. Souvenirs were presented to the friends so that they can be remembered long after this journey. Finally the ship arrived at the destination and its travelers were decreed by the time to part, with tears in their eyes and with a hope that they shall meet again. Only the memories of this wonderful journey would remain with us, and as life traversed a new path, they would eventually fade away as imperceptibly as the stars in the universe.

Eventually The Dawn Sets In

People have imperceptibly taken the refuge into the slumber and the city has succumbed now to lassitude and moved into a hiatus like the sun. The darkness and the solitude which are the unwanted companions of the night, as the insatiable appetite to the humans, have the empyrean submerged into them. Dreams are supplanting the happenings of the day passed interminably and transcending the very confinement of the earthly life.

The sky is resplendent in a black dress with twinkling stars embedded into it which becomes lively with each passing ferry. The moon, which has been inspiration for the poets for years, has come out of its veil only to find its new admirer. The cool breeze is blowing leisurely, like a mother fanning her children with a handmade fan, and taking along with it the feeling of sorrows which have encumbered people. The trees are standing still as they have made covenant with the wind as the monks with the austerity. The road which was inundated with the people during the day now looks as deserted as the road to the villages with occasionally few people making their way through it. The sea is silent as it doesn’t wish to disturb the sun, which has gone into it, in its repose.

People who are wary of the coming day are holding on to this night like a child to his mother on his first day to school. People who are rendered lonely by the night are confining their solitude into words whilst their minds rove through the thick blanket of darkness which the night has cast on our hemisphere.

I have always wondered why the people are scared of the night, or for that matter darkness. As the light is necessary for one to know the path so is the darkness to convey the ignorance of path. Ignorance is an abyss which always keeps the people away from the reality and circumscribes one’s potential as disease does to one’s health. To come out of this ignorance is as necessary as for the birds to know it’s time to leave their nests.

The clock seems now ticking faster towards the dawn and the time which stood like the stone in the path of the river seems now yield to it and is flowing along with it. The night is folding up its blanket and its companions will soon find their ways to the writings of the poets. The rising of the sun can be felt in the cuckoo’s call, in the chirping of the birds and the crowing of the cock. The moon is moving in its confinement after having spent a lonely night. The sky is changing its night dress whilst the birds are back with the rejuvenated spirit to impress upon it. Soon the people will wake up from their dreams only to realize that they have come out of a world which is standing at diametrically opposite end of the real one. Soon the city will be on its way, reluctantly to be a part of the race in which its only opponent is the city itself.

My First Blog

For a long time I was thinking about what should I write in my first blog, but my mind couldn’t behold any idea for long. No matter how much I thought, how far I thought I always ended up having written something on sand which the coming waves wiped out every now and then. That may be accounted for my indecisiveness and unfortunately that time I was not having any argument to contravene it.

This predicament continued for few days when one day, I asked myself why I need to write a blog or for that matter, why anyone writes a blog. My entire endeavor towards writing the blog moved into abeyance and the mind altogether found a different reason to be racked. The pursuit of the answer to this question, led me to long late night discussions with my friends over tea which was of course sponsored by me to let them their ears to me. We all concurred upon that it’s the innate desire of every human being that one wants to be recognized and to be appreciated. The way how one satisfies such a desire varies as the paths taken by the rivers to fulfill their desires of merging with the sea vary.

Few days down the line I was reading the book “Diary of a Madman” by Nikolai Gogol in which he mentioned that “Life’s greatest blessing is to share one’s thoughts, feelings and impressions with another soul.” So true! I couldn’t ask for more. The privation of this would no doubt make the lives of human beings no better than the animals which are yearning for this since their spirits found abode in their bodies.

I feel like the bird, which was forced by the rain to be in its nest, and is now encircling the sky with a high spirit and the pleasant climate adding further to its delight.

I decided to give wings to my thoughts as I consider that everyone of us has their own shortcomings and through the exchange of views we can bring about edification of ourselves. As for writing, I always perceive it as the projection of one’s thought. The way one draws such projections leads to wide spectrum of writing. Besides, writing has its own idiosyncratic charm.

Francis Bacon once said “Reading maketh a full man; Conference a ready man; and Writing an exact man.” I wonder if he has lived by today he would have added that “Blogging maketh an up to date man.”