Window gazing
It was about 10 in the morning, tensions rising; chaos everywhere…oh, and before you assume, let me introduce you to the setting. There is a surge of energy every time I pay a visit to my hometown, it’s not a usual affair mind you. I don’t just pack a few apparels, but I pack a bundle of fabrics woven out of nostalgia and adulation.
I reminisce those two months long summer vacations back during my schooling days; today the same excitement resurfaces as I leave for my hometown. I am aware of all the affection that I’m going to be crammed with, sadly enough we become ignorant after a point. But the love remains nonetheless.
I am taken over by the fact that a lot of my friends have either migrated, or we have simply lost touch. Life, as it comes has its way of changing tides, and we have to surf ahead. Anyways, I reach my hometown, the weather — despite being harsh — seems a lot pleasant than usual, and of course, people a lot more welcoming than when I am in the sprawling metropolitan. Truth be told, nothing’s really changed, it’s just the nodes in my brain meandering differently when I decide to come here.
I sauntered in and around the house, not that I haven’t seen it before, but just to soothe my nerves. I notice tiny changes, which quite frankly would be the case with every household. What is extremely pleasing is, despite the tangible changes, the essence of old times never diminishes. I look around invariably only to find the mirage of my childhood, prancing in the corridor, gulping down the coconut water and dozing off on the compact couch after a day’s play. But not to sound too dismal, I settle for the newness around me. The new impressive additions include a small bird house, two huge dogs, an expansive garden, and a balcony which facilitates for evocative stay. I spend the major part of the day sitting in the balcony, penning down thoughts, breathing fresh air, and vicariously living through the memories I have created here.
There seems to be no weight of the duties that I’m otherwise compelled to discharge, for I feel as light as air in this immaculate set-up. I remember, in one of the conversations with a good friend, he had mentioned about meditation and how one could listen to sounds emanating from as far as a kilometer, or even two. As astonished I was at the beginning, I sat intently to experience it. I am not sure about the sounds, but the constant chirping of birds makes me wonder if they are trying to say something. As indecipherable as it might be, I make it a point to listen to them carefully. Nature speaks. Period. It is a scientific fact, but for the first time, I was experiencing a trance-like state generating alpha waves from within.
We are one with chaos, especially in the current times; not matter how much we try to defy, we are a part of it. But there are portals, in my case, the house in my hometown which open up to the natural world — a world that has not changed much, ever since its inception.
I experience the natural world here, and my association is more than inheritance. In fact, all of us belong to that natural world. We are a part of it, but with passage of time and evolution — or at least I’d still like to believe so– we have been accustomed to the new world constituted by all things corrupt. I do not say that we despondency, for I contribute equally, if not more to the corrupt lines, but there is a problem when we try to adjust. To think of it as normal is the problem. That is exactly the case with me, which is why I consider the time I spend in my hometown as ‘relaxing’ and ‘rejuvenating’. That should clearly convey that our advancements and evolution have left us with the idea of the ‘new world’ being corrupt in more ways than one.
Sadly enough, our rejuvenation time is limited and days of back-breaking, soul-jarring and pulse-raging work is pervasive. There probably is no way we can go back in time to change the factors influencing evolution, but what we could do now is to sit back and reconsider our evolutionary methods. There is always a choice; there is always a way. The idea of letting ourselves loosen up a little bit, once in a while has to be put away. Instead we need to look for ways, or better yet, create ways to convert our smothering pods (sprawling cities) into portals that connect us with the natural world, just the way my hometown does. For if we don’t find peace in there, our struggle to find it would only increase with time. Until then, I’m going to relish my ever-so-hurrying time here and hope to replicate this atmosphere in the metropolitan.
