A day by the ocean shore

 By the time I had reached the ocean, the sun was playing hide and seek with the clouds. Cumulus completely covered the sky and blue tinge was nowhere to be found. I could hear the sound of the waves crashing across the shore loud and clear. Gushing waves hitting hard every time, pulling back, again hitting hard, as if something is trying to escape the vast blue deep ocean. The ocean breeze was cold. Footsteps were sloppy due to the sandy shores, I could hardly follow a straight line. Often, at most of the time, perhaps, when I reached the shore, I felt heavy. As if something was hung from my shoulder to knees, the weight was pulling me, and it was hard to walk. Maybe, while for others the ocean was entertainment, refreshing or a happy place. For me, it was a therapy. I was much needed to keep my sanity in check from time to time. There was this darkness deep inside me that was lurking in, it came out and crumbled my life into pieces from time to time and went back to its place quietly. If it wasn’t so terrible, then it would be extremely funny. I came to the edge of the cliff and held my arms wide open. I didn’t want someone to hug me, it was completely different. I was suffocating, all through my life, every now and then, I just wanted to breathe. Everything was grey and black, lively colors were gone. Everything was dark. Night started to creep in. I stood there sitting by myself. I felt peaceful, as I kept staring at the waves. I lost track of time and the world around me started to fade away. I didn’t know what I was doing. I just wanted to be alone for a while so that my pain would wash away by the waves. 

💭

Hibiscus rosa-sinensis

May be because I was caged, or maybe because I had nowhere to go, precisely, I wasn't allowed to go anywhere, I always stare through the window, sometimes I see bright yellow light glittering, other times dark grey clouds, at a few rare times there would be torrential downpour on Earth; the loud sound would make me spellbound for unknown reasons. I peek through the window from time to time, morning, noon, night, midnight, I stumble upon the window panel, as if my legs were weak, and a heavy force is casted upon me. 

The picture isn't bleak, there is a lawn in the front, entire earth is covered by different variety of grass, bush, and few plants, most were non flowered ones, there stood a magnificent Indian almond tree; with fan shaped leaves growing towards the sky, butterflies visit everyday; monarch, white wood, grass yellow, common windmill, crimson rose, yellow Helen, Paris peacock and common raven, these are the regular one. Tailor bird cheeup- cheeup- cheeup in the high pitched sound; how can such a little ball of fluff can cheeup so loudly, I wonder. Sparrows chirp endlessly, as like calling forth the rain from heaven. Common myna has a nest nearby, it squeaks in a high pitched sound. They get enthralled on a drizzly morning. 

Grey, gloomy days promise a torrential downpour, I am not twisted, but, gloomy, drizzly October mornings are the days I am looking to; I have an healthy obsession with rain. I am not fond of sunny days, or sunshine or hiking on such a day. It is not that I hate sun particularly, but the heat, glistening light, made me faint. I literally faint under the sun. A cold breeze fanning through the trees, humidity surrounds the air, dark clouds marching forth, within a few minutes, it starts pouring down, chill and cold. I feel calm and composed; again for unknown reasons. The heavier the rain, the calmer I feel, as opposed. Sound of the rain thrashing the Planet Earth is the most pleasing sound I ever heard. 

On a middle of a busy day, or in the middle of the mental chatter, twittering sound would pierce through and make me enthralled. I would stop what I was doing and watch the tailor bird for a few minutes. It would chirrup, watching the surroundings keenly, jumping around from branch to branch. Even though it lasts for a minute or two, I would be forever encapsulated by this sight. So these are the day to day happening, common, usual, regular, not boring, of course not, but repetitive and normal. 

On such a fine day, I stared through the window as usual, there was a stunning sight. I almost walked away from the window, but my legs failed to leave. I held to the grills so tight, that my knuckles turned white. It was not usual, not at all, never have I ever seen such a sight. What was that!!! Why it made me enchanted, left me with a broken heart for the beauty it adored, what in the world was that!!!!!!

What was green only a day before has become a festoon of vibrant blooms. Entire flower looks like it was dyed in deep red. Petals were so fragile, and soft. A dotted, yellow stem protruded from the middle. The color was so deep, creamy red, with valvate petals; which were gentle, that I dared not to touch. Hibiscus rosa-sinensis, even though I encounter it almost everyday, it was still a mystery to me how such a phenomenal masterpiece grew from water, earth and light!

The hidden world

 On a drizzly October morning, sky covered with thick bands of clouds, the humidity in the air was welcoming, I went to the terrace and sat on the bench. Time is a strange thing. Isn't it? Life is a mystery. Sound of the distance train, traffic and vehicles afar. Still in the midst of the busy morning, nature pulled me in. Time seemed so fluid, it wasn't so solid or lost. I had all the time in the world. Birds twittering, flying around swiftly, chasing one another, playing hide and seek, and enjoying the day ahead. Within a few minutes, I got completely immersed in their world. 

Behind the noisy atmosphere and automobiles, there lies a hidden world. I call it hidden, simply because they were right in front, in plain sight, but I failed to notice them for a long period of time. Nevertheless, this world is beautiful. Little one twittering, chirping, flying around, endlessly. Are they communicating between them? Even if they are, the message seemed to be beyond my comprehension, because all I heard was the tone and the sound. I couldn't decipher the language. Yet, the more I listened and paid attention to, the more it made sense. 

                                  "There is more to reality than we notice"

Big birds roam around and do the perimeter check. Little ones happily enjoying the weather. The first message that gets conveyed about is today's weather. Whether it would be sunny or is there a chance of rain. Second they go in search of food. And they always keep their guard on. For some reason, the way that tailor bird flew, reminds me of the fish in the ocean. Sometimes rushing through the air, but most of the time just floating through the wind. As if wind carried him through. He chirps so loudly that you couldn't possibly miss. It pierces the eardrum and reaches the head directly like a thunder. 

I envy him for the freedom he endorses. In the vast blue ocean of clouds, he flew swiftly and elegantly. Such a little ball of fluff, hardly weighs a pound, size of tennis ball, weighs less than that, when he chirps, he makes a significant impression, finally leaves people like me spellbound. May be their world has mysteries and miracles that are beyond my comprehension. Just because I don't understand or contemplate their actions doesn't mean that it is not there. They could be admiring me in awe, as I am doing here. 

The absence of light

The absence of light

Black is not a colour. It is a complete absence of light. You may wonder, 'what light has anything to do with color?'. Well, colour is a visual perception. Meaning, objects don't have a colour. When light falls on an object, some colors are reflected and others are absorbed by it. We can see the colors that are reflected by the object. 

Hence black is not a colour in technical sense. Yet, some of us don't care. There is something alluring about it. I am drawn to black like moths are attracted to light. They roam here and there, searching for light, once found, they keep circling the light as if they are enchanted. In a similar way, I am drawn to black. 

I can't possibly put into words the depth of the obsession I have for it. Black allows people to be who they are. It gives rooms for imperfections. Black is authentic, elegant, deep and mysterious. It gives full blown permission for us to be who we are and yet it spreads a different kind of aura that people pick up instantly. What can I say? That's the trade off. People drawn to black are different from the rest. 

In conclusion, black is extraordinarily luring. I dress in black almost every day. I choose things that are black and everything around me radiates the same. Black provides an added sense to perception. It deepens the soul and stimulates it. Maybe, the dark deep soul of mine just jumps in delight having found something similar to it. Nevertheless, tinge of black is all we need. An air mystery, a silence that is too deep, and an onyx soul.

White lily

I headed out the front door. The front lawn was marvelous. It was bright, and sparkling under the sunlight. I noticed the same scene for quite a few days. But, there was something else that caught my attention in a snap. 

The lawn was completed covered with bushes, grasses and a  few climbers. One far corner of the lawn, was white lily, spectacular, stood out from the rest of the place. An expanse of green, long, uneven tuft of bunch grass, perfectly spread out, and was bright and shining under the new light. What did the flower think it was doing there? So out of the place. It stood out, blossomed and danced in the sun.  It did attract a few visitors. 

Orange, mixed with black, fluttering happily, instilling jealousy upon my soul for the freedom he engrossed. He flew swiftly, as if teleporting through the air. I got carried away with him. I wandered with my eyes fixed upon him, he flew calmly and rested on the white lily. It was meant to be. At least, that was how it felt. I came inside with a smile on my face. It was near dusk, I peeked through the window, searching for the white lily, she was dull, and almost withered out of the plant. Did he know this? What would he do when he comes back tomorrow searching for her? I was sick to my stomach. 

Even though she was not found anywhere, she would be here, with me, in words, forever. 

                                                       _darkrain