Morning Walk

I was awake. I was dumb yesterday night, too. I slept by around 1 o’ clock. But then, I woke up– I didn’t know how or when. However, I was in the complete darkness. I sat on my bed, looking everywhere around for my cell phone. I couldn’t find it. I kept it somewhere. I needed a change. Yea! Without a second thought I wore my track pant and came out for a long walk. It was drizzling and the weather was quite cold. After reaching the main road, I met an old man walking with a cigar and asked him the time. He said “3:35 am”. God Damn! I will never be able to wake up even at 7:00 am on Mondays. And if it is a weekend, I will not be able to sleep even till 5:00 am. 

I must have walked for an hour. I went off the road into the country side. Sun gave a smile and darkness changed to twilight and people started coming out of their homes. Call it what you will. A boring field, full of dirt, mud and waste, or just a field, no more than that is what I thought when I went there on foot. I thought people would not open their eyes fully; they would be blocked, faded, hidden in shadow. But today, I saw far more than what I thought. I saw deep into the earth, into the sky, the wind and the water. My heart belonged there, and nowhere else would it find rest so relaxing. 

The grass beneath my feet was so light and springy that it hardly seemed to bend or break under me. Its green was so jade, and the dew dangled from its tip, making the blade look like glass in the sun. Then plunk! It dropped, and moistened the soil with its richness. Above me was the sky, blue as the depths of the ocean, as the Great White Cloud Ships come gliding past. No cloud was similar; no pattern the same, white and grey, glowing the Sun’s rays. And the Sun! The God, healer and provider to all that lives around us. It provides us with food and life, so vast in size and heat, it is almost lethal to us. It is indescribable, yet I can describe my feelings of it from my heart. Can such attractiveness be ignored?

  The flowers, painted by the hands of God, had colors so rich that no artist can even attempt to imitate them. They were so small, yet so fair, standing out against the wasteland that surrounded it. From the smallest weed to the grandest stalk, they were all beautiful in my eyes. Around me were my friends; some were flying, and few were walking with me along the road; Cuckoos singing, dog lazily getting up from his sleep. All the animals in the world seemed so special. Can anyone hate or have the heart to abandon these creatures?

At times, the way you come across stranger stories is the simplest way: I had a talk for half an hour with 82 years old man. I helped him to search for his coin in the dark road and we ended up walking together for half an hour. He spoke about his youth, his life, about how the town was 50 years ago. He advised me on how to live a disciplined life. I’m glad he wanted to share, because these pieces are special in their uniqueness.

I saw all these like a blind man seeing for the first time in his life. How mechanical I have been all these days? How did I miss this beauty all these years? Why didn’t I notice them all these days? Why didn’t I talk to a stranger all these days?

All these days, I recorded my experiences; took pictures of them, shared them on Facebook; and today, for the first time I experienced my experiences.  I spent all these years documenting and I spent this morning living. ! J

Sometimes you have to believe that there is more to the world than what we can see and feel. I believe there is more to this life! Yes. I believe there is more to this life!