Good Night

It has been so long, I actually have to wonder where I should start writing from. So I find myself beginning from putting down the instinct to hint what I am going to write about and instead write it down like a story unfolding itself in my head.

The night has always been a place of solace for me, sometimes warm and welcoming, and a silent partner otherwise. I actually wonder whether nights were always like these. In the times gone by, which seem like from another life, my own, night was a time to rest. Then suddenly either times changed or life, and night became as much of a time window as any other hour during the day. What one couldn’t accomplish during day, he undertook at night. Maybe it was the proliferation of options, and lack of interesting ones during day, that this became so far-fetchingly a part of one’s day, that ‘night-life’ seemed more important than it’s sunny counterpart on so many days.

And now I wonder where I am amidst the darkness of night, softly caressed by moon’s charms. What I reminisce seems like a day gone by rather than years and months, and now I am standing in the still of the night, alone, and waiting for the next day to begin. The day will be like any other in this picture of time, demanding hard-work, relying on faith, teased by dreams and down-trodden by failures. But still it will be a new day. How will I know about it? I won’t have the luxury to rest.

In one of the many stories I have seen, read and heard, there was an episode in which a person, accomplished well beyond his age, questions on what made him feel like a man rather than a boy- when he finally made love to the girl he loved, or when he held the hand of a dying lonely woman through the night. Becoming a man from a boy for me was always to let go of what I wanted and choose what was right. But is that it? Even as a child I did what was right most of the time. So what differentiates a man from a boy? Now I think it’s accepting the fact that becoming a man is a never-ending process. There will always be a child in me. Sometimes more stubborn and unrelenting because he thinks he is a man, but the moment he stops learning and growing, he is a child again. And such is the circle of life- when a boy has finally realized the man he is, the child in him is ready to come back again, mostly accompanied by senility.

So why I slog through the day when what I eventually await is the night to rest? A story! A journey which has enriched one’s life by testing the waters of the world and time! And the hope that in the end my memories will be more of achievements than regrets! What I write so briefly probably describes years of my life. Yet the beauty of past and future is that years of them can span a brief moment in my mind, while the present is just a moment, but a special moment in which I live. And live it I shall.

Morning Raga

Rise... that's the keyword that comes to my mind when I think of mornings. Sun rises, new day rises, plans, chores, tensions, schedules, everything rises anew; of course along with the individual himself/herself. I rise and I start living beyond the unlimited sub-conscious horizons of my dreams. Just the fact that I have woken up, instills the novelty that defines what mornings mean.

Although it's not like everyday I, or anyone else for that matter, I wake up feeling at peace or elated. Many mornings, I have brooded over past and present. Many I have spent sleeping preferring the world of dreams over the supposedly 'real' counterpart. And many I have just plainly forgotten in the routine of the day and later realized I remember nothing special about that morning, except getting ready and getting on with the matters at hand. But yes, many some good mornings are like today's.

Like many of it's categorical predecessors, this morning instilled a feeling of peace. I woke up without any worries or apprehensions (not that I don't have a big bag full in my hand). I woke up to realize I had just taken hold of more hours in the day by getting up early. I woke up to feel the soft warm morning sunshine of an October morning. I woke up realizing, I am glad I am living the life I am, even with all its flaws. I woke up with a smile for all the hopes I have, and a grin for all the things I want to achieve. I woke up just to be satisfied that I have another day which I have the opportunity to spend as per my capabilities right now. I woke up without thinking so many of the things I mentioned above, and still feeling all of them. I woke up.

So what is it that made me start noticing this morning? The previous turmoil of the days gone. As the proverb goes, "It's always Darkest before the Dawn". I guess a part of the esoteric meaning of it indicates towards the fact that sometimes you've gone through so much turbulence, you come to realize the importance and satisfaction of things you've taken for granted. In the heat of the race that life has become, you forget to appreciate and be grateful for the many simple things in life. As I realized the same, it brought a smile to my face. The thought that kept me from diving back into the well of apprehensions was "Things could be a lot worse".

Probably I won't be feeling so light at heart and glowing inside within an hour or so. But I have this hour within me to rejuvenate the spirit of life. I remember the old lessons, To be motivated by looking up, while be grateful and humbled by looking down. And this is what makes this morning free of mournings. (Although the similarity in phoenetics lights a spark of curiousity and thought in my mind. I guess I will leave it for some other morning.)

So I stand now smiling. Looking at my long-time friend, basking in his warmth and thanking him for breaking the spell of darkness. I stand enjoying my element, ruffling through my hair and caressing my slumber wringed skin. I hope it rains today too. The ground could use some respite from the October heat. And I selfishly would be able to enjoy getting drenched in the downpour. Life might not be good enough. But it is better than many.

P.S. It did Rain today... and I did get drenched :)