As I walked down my favourite avenue path, I paused and looked around, as a sense of stillness filled the morning air. It seemed to dominate over the weather’s attitude, as though challenging the signature cool, refreshing breeze that usually tranquilises my daily walking routine. As I took a few more steps ahead, the stillness walked along, dragged itself to accompany me on my destination-less solitary journey. There is a reason why I call the avenue a favourite- it is amidst the busy city pace and the amazing levels of composure that dawns bring along, a perfect blend of the two extremes.
But today was new- the stillness in the air had a gaze which troubled. It of course seemed to be a harmless entity- with no ability whatsoever to affect varied lives that were strewn across the avenue. It was as harmless as harmless could be, and it was then that the absence of the daily welcoming breeze hit my face with all its vigour. Perhaps I would have never felt the inertia in the air if not for the longing for the breeze that the stillness had reminded me of.
That’s strange, I thought. How can some undesirable element evoke emotions towards something extremely complementary to it, even in cases of its mere existence? Every single day till today I had walked past this thicket of trees, anticipating the freshness of the breeze that lovingly whooshed around playfully… every time the breeze stroked my hair, it used to instigate a train of thought, memories, emotions, everything! Of all the glories of life, times of fun, embarrassment, joys lost, people missed, good days, mishaps…
Today, in the absence of that prolific breeze and a contrasting panorama, these memories stirred in my head all over again- with the same confusion as they had initially began to take complex forms when they were first born. I could see them all- Distinct. Uniform. Detailed. Incessant. And more complex. May be the stillness in the air was not innocuous after all; it was in fact guilty of creating a desire, many desires. A longing for that freshness in the breeze that had not greeted me today… a craving for that one moment in the day when I stop and think how beautiful (or not) life actually is. Realisation then dawned and created a perspective- that the stillness in the air was not something different from the breeze, it was its mere absence.
Just as the breeze had earlier weaved innumerable emotions together, in non-uniform, and even absurd, formations, today, when I walked into the lifelessness of the path, it took me to a different level of introspection. Or even a better one, where it showed me the leeward side of the locale of the breeze- it was a better view indeed. As I began to savour the scenic mural, the breeze was all forgotten. The breeze which greeted me every single day and ruffled my hair to streamline ideas in my head? It elapsed, and happily. It could now come and go when it desires, and I would have no inclination to feel possessive- about the loving breeze or the favourite avenue. Absence itself can be serene, blissful… the presence of everything we desire would only shamelessly pamper. When we come to terms with accepting that “absence” can be delightful… and this happens in a way that we could never have imagined… it is then that we start walking along a wholly new avenue, contemplating about another breeze. Or may be its blissful non-existence.
But today was new- the stillness in the air had a gaze which troubled. It of course seemed to be a harmless entity- with no ability whatsoever to affect varied lives that were strewn across the avenue. It was as harmless as harmless could be, and it was then that the absence of the daily welcoming breeze hit my face with all its vigour. Perhaps I would have never felt the inertia in the air if not for the longing for the breeze that the stillness had reminded me of.
That’s strange, I thought. How can some undesirable element evoke emotions towards something extremely complementary to it, even in cases of its mere existence? Every single day till today I had walked past this thicket of trees, anticipating the freshness of the breeze that lovingly whooshed around playfully… every time the breeze stroked my hair, it used to instigate a train of thought, memories, emotions, everything! Of all the glories of life, times of fun, embarrassment, joys lost, people missed, good days, mishaps…
Today, in the absence of that prolific breeze and a contrasting panorama, these memories stirred in my head all over again- with the same confusion as they had initially began to take complex forms when they were first born. I could see them all- Distinct. Uniform. Detailed. Incessant. And more complex. May be the stillness in the air was not innocuous after all; it was in fact guilty of creating a desire, many desires. A longing for that freshness in the breeze that had not greeted me today… a craving for that one moment in the day when I stop and think how beautiful (or not) life actually is. Realisation then dawned and created a perspective- that the stillness in the air was not something different from the breeze, it was its mere absence.
Just as the breeze had earlier weaved innumerable emotions together, in non-uniform, and even absurd, formations, today, when I walked into the lifelessness of the path, it took me to a different level of introspection. Or even a better one, where it showed me the leeward side of the locale of the breeze- it was a better view indeed. As I began to savour the scenic mural, the breeze was all forgotten. The breeze which greeted me every single day and ruffled my hair to streamline ideas in my head? It elapsed, and happily. It could now come and go when it desires, and I would have no inclination to feel possessive- about the loving breeze or the favourite avenue. Absence itself can be serene, blissful… the presence of everything we desire would only shamelessly pamper. When we come to terms with accepting that “absence” can be delightful… and this happens in a way that we could never have imagined… it is then that we start walking along a wholly new avenue, contemplating about another breeze. Or may be its blissful non-existence.
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