Stillness of the sky,
Boldness of the mountains,
Luminous chirping of the aves,
And then, somewhere between them cuts an ocean.
The plain, placid ocean.....
Somewhere beneath the endless skies, I find myself a few centimeters away from the ocean waters. I bend closer, and timidly stare at my reflection. It stares back giving a sharp image. The girl with digital wrist-watch, beige shorts and cobalt checkered shirt has her hair cropped up short. Unable to believe at my deceiving retinas, I march on ahead trying to forget my own picture out of my head. Walking ahead.
A strange kind of happiness engulfs me from the inside, when my naked feet moisten up, step by step by the damp sand grains. The weather is absolutely spectacular. The crimson orange sun giving out just the right amount of rays. I have an urge. So I quench it up by picking up a round pebble and throwing it as far as I can, somewhere in middle of the vast ocean.
Is there a measure to calculate the level of marvelous things we experience? I believe not.
So, after walking a couple of miles I release my tightly clutched black leather-bound folder that was enclosed under my armpits, dig my legs under the sand and sit down. And I start with my cursive in the blank, crisp white sheets. There are times, when our fingers can overpower the quirkiness of our minds. They can go on and on, without even taking any consult of the cerebrum.
How strange...
Everything feels just...perfect! I don't know why, but I continue writing for hours. Because I want to cherish every moment of the time, I am on this flawless land.
Where am I by the way? behind me is the tropical and somewhere very far I see some moss-covered mountain peaks. I am sitting on the sand and overlooking the ocean. Then why can't I make out where on earth am I? this isn't one of the islands I've watched on discovery channel, it is far more beautiful. It's far more beyond and ceaseless.
No sign of life, except the transpiring trees. No life beyond flycatchers soaring up. No life beyond the chirping of the crickets. No life beyond the light waves of the ocean waters. But there is a strange kind of solace. Of unusual peace.
I straighten up and lie down on the sand. My hair laden with the shiny sand grains. The perspiration wets my back but I don't care. This dampness feels amazing. Words fail me. Does, anything get better?
My eyes marvel the sky. How can there be so many shades of blue up there?
So, I start on with my favorite pastime. Playing with clouds. I see a tiny little man playing with a stick, fire, a saree embodied woman. And well the list goes on and on. The clouds can bring the most creative side of people.
And then just I was lost in my thoughts, a huge blob of black descend from the west. Replacing the serene blue clouds mixing with them, giving them a dirty grey color. Thundering starts, lightening occurs. And there comes a heavy downpour.
I pick up my folder, dust myself and run into the canopy of the trees. I descend to the forest.
The dark green forests....
Baaaammm! wait! what the hell was that! why am I rolling on the floor? was that a dream? No, it wasn't! was it?
It's hard to come back to the reality after seeing something that is so intoxicating and surreal. It feels like I am still stuck somewhere there. I can still smell the salty oceans. I can still feel the numbness of my wandering soul.
They say that we forget dreams within 24 hours. But here is the classic case of a crazy dreamer whose dreams seek refuge not only in the mind but also in the heart.
Forever and ever.
Boldness of the mountains,
Luminous chirping of the aves,
And then, somewhere between them cuts an ocean.
The plain, placid ocean.....
Somewhere beneath the endless skies, I find myself a few centimeters away from the ocean waters. I bend closer, and timidly stare at my reflection. It stares back giving a sharp image. The girl with digital wrist-watch, beige shorts and cobalt checkered shirt has her hair cropped up short. Unable to believe at my deceiving retinas, I march on ahead trying to forget my own picture out of my head. Walking ahead.
A strange kind of happiness engulfs me from the inside, when my naked feet moisten up, step by step by the damp sand grains. The weather is absolutely spectacular. The crimson orange sun giving out just the right amount of rays. I have an urge. So I quench it up by picking up a round pebble and throwing it as far as I can, somewhere in middle of the vast ocean.
Is there a measure to calculate the level of marvelous things we experience? I believe not.
So, after walking a couple of miles I release my tightly clutched black leather-bound folder that was enclosed under my armpits, dig my legs under the sand and sit down. And I start with my cursive in the blank, crisp white sheets. There are times, when our fingers can overpower the quirkiness of our minds. They can go on and on, without even taking any consult of the cerebrum.
How strange...
Everything feels just...perfect! I don't know why, but I continue writing for hours. Because I want to cherish every moment of the time, I am on this flawless land.
Where am I by the way? behind me is the tropical and somewhere very far I see some moss-covered mountain peaks. I am sitting on the sand and overlooking the ocean. Then why can't I make out where on earth am I? this isn't one of the islands I've watched on discovery channel, it is far more beautiful. It's far more beyond and ceaseless.
No sign of life, except the transpiring trees. No life beyond flycatchers soaring up. No life beyond the chirping of the crickets. No life beyond the light waves of the ocean waters. But there is a strange kind of solace. Of unusual peace.
I straighten up and lie down on the sand. My hair laden with the shiny sand grains. The perspiration wets my back but I don't care. This dampness feels amazing. Words fail me. Does, anything get better?
My eyes marvel the sky. How can there be so many shades of blue up there?
So, I start on with my favorite pastime. Playing with clouds. I see a tiny little man playing with a stick, fire, a saree embodied woman. And well the list goes on and on. The clouds can bring the most creative side of people.
And then just I was lost in my thoughts, a huge blob of black descend from the west. Replacing the serene blue clouds mixing with them, giving them a dirty grey color. Thundering starts, lightening occurs. And there comes a heavy downpour.
I pick up my folder, dust myself and run into the canopy of the trees. I descend to the forest.
The dark green forests....
Baaaammm! wait! what the hell was that! why am I rolling on the floor? was that a dream? No, it wasn't! was it?
It's hard to come back to the reality after seeing something that is so intoxicating and surreal. It feels like I am still stuck somewhere there. I can still smell the salty oceans. I can still feel the numbness of my wandering soul.
They say that we forget dreams within 24 hours. But here is the classic case of a crazy dreamer whose dreams seek refuge not only in the mind but also in the heart.
Forever and ever.
How we always hope to live in dreams.. The blog is beautifully written, simply amazing.
ReplyDeleteYes, we cling on to them to the extent that it feels almost real.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much:)