MIRAGE

The sun-baked sand dunes of Sahara where the wrath of Apollo converged on the lens of my camera with such abundance that the mirror cracked from side to side and I had to take recourse to my mind's eye! The smouldering flames lashed mercilessly on the golden crust of the earth so much so that the landscape gasped white with fury.

The thorny, thirsty bushes thrust their arms towards the sky begging for a few drops of mercy. But the date palms pushed up their heads arrogantly challenging the raging blaze.

The minuscule bowl of molten ice evaporated in a giffy. In a far away distant land a mirage of green swayed lustily. As I pulled on wary and weary in a tattered black robe, my scalded feet left indelible prints on the golden grains.

The vultures hovered close greedily guarding their prey. I was nothing but a mass of barbecued flesh and charred bones. A molten pulp of candle wax in a furnace of cascading lava.

As I licked my parched lips and closed shut my scorched lids, I saw a gigantic swirl of aquamarine. Wave after wave tumbling, lashing, swaying and sashaying and then making way for another swirling gush of lathered shower. Soon the deep blue foamed liquid parted and there rose amidst the sky high roller coaster of water, a sparkling, scintillating chariot of white drawn by seven, snowy,sinewy horses, galloping out of the depths of the labyrinthine sea green and blue.

Drawn were their reigns by a pair of powerful arms. Veiled was the rider in a flowing gossamer sheen which hid his face but not his power or presence. As he stepped out of the ocean spluttering huge droplets, they flew out one by one where I stood and I stooped low to pick them up in my palm. As I did so I realized that those were not acquarian drops but strings of milky white pearls scattered and broken out of their shells.

I opened my eyes to velvety darkness with a pleasureful shudder. My room looked mercifully ordinary after the playful hues of scalding gold and tempestuous blue and Greecian figure was just a bubble of vapour disappearing in the coal blackness of the night.

I sighed deeply and closed my eyes again soon to be submerged under the sequined blanket of euphoric dreams.

ANALYSIS OF CONVERSATION

A conversation, only for comical interlude, is highly underrated and almost as the colloquial phrase goes a “time pass”. A conversation is not only an exchange of dialogues; it is an interaction of ideas, emotions, knowledge and empathy. Conversation is sharing. It is situational and therefore should manifest all the "navarasas" from time to time, including comedy. If it is only a comic relief, then perhaps it is transient and does not intend to hold a permanent place in our memory bank.

Of course, conversation in its purest and most sublime form has been epitomized by Socrates in his quest for the ultimate truth. I feel it is possible to have a little more "meaningful" conversation without indulging in such higher forms of dialogues.

A one sided conversation is thoughtlessness in its extreme. The mainstay of a ”functional” conversation is conjugality of minds, if not perspectives. A conversation cannot meander beyond niceties if inititated with divergent intentions.

A conversation for the sake of having a conversation is wasteful. Again, conversation is not an isolated experience. The full import of words spoken can be assimilated only when combined with gestures, facial expressions and body language. But we should not however forget that sometimes silence speaks more than words and a mere pause inbetween can convey loads more than a loud ejaculation.

The moot point here is that a conversation should be able to satiate the quest of the participants, whatever that might be. The result would yield far reaching benefits, if the conversationists are joined by unity of purpose and thought.

Words spoken should not be taken lightly. They are mirrors of our thoughts. Satisfaction is in venting as well as in imbibing. As we speak, so, we should also listen. As the spiritual leaders say that listening should be prayerful i.e. as in a prayer we concentrate with our whole mind, body and soul, so should we listen to others to take in the best and the most that we aspire for.

Conversation is a thirst to be quenched with the right measure of verbosity. The penultimate conversation is of course divine. but again the process is frought with experimentations. Seeking is an endless endeavour and you may knock hundreds of doors before finding the right one. Till then, you do not permit yourself to be let in. Wander till you have sought what you are looking for and sooner or later you shall be blessed with God’s receipt.