Wednesday, May 06, 2015

Chronicles of a Solitary Soul – The Nocturnal Bliss. . .

Can you recall our age old audio cassette player, which existed way before the era of compact discs, thumb drives and the smartphones arrived? Life is just like that…whatever is the juncture howsoever is the road; the beats are always on, the rhythm is always live and the music seldom stops. The fact whether that music is soothing to the soul or not is a different matter altogether. And that’s where the difference creeps in…unfortunately, the life doesn’t really have any of those pause or fast forward keys to hang on to the good times or erase over the bad ones and it keeps moving at its own pace, over and again, over and again. There must be some reasonableness in that aspect of the life because everything that happens (perhaps) happens for the reason. As they say, good moments give memories and the bad ones experiences. May be the later ones become all the more important to inculcate the patience, virtue and to instil faith as are the former ones to instil positivity and assurance.

That was exactly what I was reminding myself just a few days back. It was one of those lousy days when you just feel like pressing the fast forward button of your life so that it just passes over soon making way for a new tomorrow with renewed zeal & regenerated passion, something which is an essential ingredient for a fresh start. Strangely enough, it was not just that day, but the last few many days…when life has been paving its way through all sorts of jerks and breakers trying hard to derail its track but in the end just managing to stay afloat, stay brim.

After having a stretched day at the office, when I was walking my way to the parking slot (which is about five-ten minute walk from the office), my mind was hustling with varied thoughts none of which was consoling enough to calm that hustle within. As I moved from one building to another, looking at each of the finely crafted structures reflecting one of the many engineering marvels that the city of Gurgaon boasts of, I could see one of those building brimming with activity with some figures moving here and there, some sitting on their work-stations and some outside expelling the whirls of smoke from their mouth holding cigarette in one hand and phone in the other. That was perhaps one of the many call centres which the building housed and those figures perhaps many of the souls working therein. Since the call centre functions round the clock with different shift timings for different people, it is always bustling with the activities even at the odd hours.

The parking lot, however, was saying a different story. It was a barren place with only one car secluding itself in one of the corners overseeing the perfectly demarcated slots which stood alone longing for someone to accompany them in that dark silent night. I don’t know whether they were privy to the fact that it was just a matter of few hours when their moments of isolation would make way for the moments of union for which they are actually carved out. Unfortunately, I separated the lot with its sole companion when I started my car and drove myself out of the area. As the headlights of the car pierced their way cutting through the darkness, the endless tiny moths and creatures started dancing merrily in its path. It felt as if the light gave them just another reason to live their life and they were smart enough not to miss this chance…some survived and some vanished. Now when I think about those moths and insects, I feel they were at-least better than me to grasp that single chance that life gave them and live it to the fullest, even if that consequently tantamount to perish forever. The fact that it turned out to be their last chance didn’t bother them much coz they capitalized whatever life offered them.

The moment the vehicle came out of the parking lot, everything went silent again. The roads were almost barren and it was almost a full moon night with handful of stars twinkling in the sky (I wondered who, on the earth, held their switch making them tinkle every now and then & smiling with an assurance that you are not alone). But somewhere within the turbulence and turmoil existed which was in complete contrast with the calmness outside. The sombreness continued to create rippling brook that constantly churned to carve out its way through the eyes, but something inside was compelled to hold them up and not to part with the same. My mind (or is that heart…I am again clueless) has this strange habit of toiling hard and wonder about the things, specifically when it should take the rest. It keeps on pondering about the things that are, about the things that aren’t and about the things that could have been. And rarest of the times when it doesn’t find anything to think about, it becomes involved in the vicious circle of ‘whys’, ‘whats’ and ‘hows’. Remembering Ghalib’s couplet…
Hui muddat kay Ghalib mar gaya par yaad aata hai
Woh har aik baat pe kehna ke: ‘Yoon hota to kya hota?
(It’s been a while since Ghalib died but it’s still remembered
His love of argument & always saying, ‘but if THIS had happened, then what?)

(Ghalib in himself is an institute to read, enjoy and learn…I am seriously thinking to study and share the ghazals of his ‘Deewan-e-Ghalib’ on the blog along-with the explanations. God willing, will start the same soon…)

Source: Google Images

Anyhow…I continued to drive my way back home and gradually I felt better, blame it on the soothing nocturnal bliss or those wonderful songs from the golden era of 90s (and that too without interruptions from some stupid RJ or any adds creeping in between) which played on the FM. Gradually it all became so wonderful…a relaxed drive on the empty road with some of the beautiful songs playing in the back which slowly and stealthily landed on the lips. It felt if life could just go on like this forever. The irony of the situation was I again wished for the life to be an audio cassette player but this time the key / button I wanted to press was different, it was not the fast forward but the pause one!! That’s the beauty of the life, isn’t it…in just a matter of half an hour it gracefully and seamlessly managed to pull me out of the despair – even if that was momentary. That’s what it always does, when you think life has lost its meaning with nothing going your way, it suddenly gives you a reason to cherish. Just embrace whatever comes your way and experience its joy even in the most mundane things of the life.

Before concluding…I would like to point out my fascination for the night time. I am in complete awe for the same since my childhood days and it continues to pacify me even now. My fascination stems from the fact that it enables me to surrender completely to the world of dreams (seen not necessarily with the closed eyes!!) and also cause it brings me closer to myself to my own world of solitude (and then no one else exist, it’s just I, Me and Myself). It’s that time of the day when the darkness engulfs everything around and slowly & slowly some of the tiring souls of the world surrender to the intoxication of the sleep, while there are some solitary figures who finds solace in the silence and tranquil which opens up the their dreaming space bringing them a step closer to their dreams, desires and aspirations.

(I recall how much perplexed and thrilled was I during one of my geography class in early school days, when the teacher told us about the Antarctica, being the place which has about six months day and six months night. And how all my excitement vanished when she told me that no permanent life exist on the planet, dashing all my hopes there itself.)

I don’t know whether anyone has observed or not but there are some emotional and psychological changes that happen under the blanket of the darkness. If one ponders just a bit too hard, he would be exposed to the most suppressed, tender and authentic thoughts, which will come out of their hibernation. All these thoughts and notions are overshadowed & blinded by the shining sun rays and judgemental stares during the day time but amidst the darkness of the night they come back to haunt / soothe the soul. And then the muse kindles, rejuvenates and rises from the slumber & in result some turn poet, some philosophers and some even slayers.

Finally, the best thing about the night is its proximity to the glorious world of dreams which is devoid of any sophistication or delicacy of the real world…the world of dreams which takes me further closer to my desires and aspirations – not only the ones alive but also the remnants of the ones perished…the world of dreams which devoid of any rules where my unfulfilled aspirations are met and where my unquenched desires are allayed. As Anne Bronte says,
I love the silent hour of night
For blissful dreams may then arise
Revealing to my charmed sight
What may not bless my waking eyes…

~Shubh Life . . . Om Sai Ram

© 2015 Manish Purohit (Reserved)

Heartfelt thanks for visiting here. . . While the thoughts are woven with the strings of the words, what remains to be seen whether they does manage to form a bridge for you to cross and listen to the beating. And if it does, do drop in your beat in the comment box . . . it always feels great to hear from you :)

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