THE MEANDERING COURSE

There’s a river tripping down the rugged, uneven terrains of a mountain in a fit of joyful descent coursing its way through pebbled path, narrow in perspective, almost narcissistic and very, very light on feet, disbursing its joyous spree in innumerable rivulets, turning a bend it draws the reign and slows down its pace to a trot, galloping on velvety, lush grounds, it is confident at the same time sedate, serene, introspective even morose at times and at others spirited, delighted, playful perhaps with the air of a vagabond but not Bohemian, of course not, not at all, till it crashes in million aplomb, it is naughty but not mean till suddenly it does discard the zest, the zeal, the fervour, the buoyancy, the vibrancy of yore and takes a more sluggish path of slow paced brood, ambles down the gentle slopes, in an insatiable quest for the unknown and at one point it obliterates the past, blots out the vagaries of aimless reminiscences, freezes the present and oblivious to the fears of the future, traipses past its tributaries to go mingle and get lost into the depths of the bottomless blue fringed with infinite, tumultuous, torrid, impassioned waves pacified into the sage like, silent, ocean stunned into eternal peace. Just like life. Isn’t it?

ON HINDSIGHT.............

We fought like cats and dogs over a trivial issue. But trivial was such a trivia that it was forthwith discarded from our dictionary. Blinding rage wore a magnifying glass shielding clarity of vision, dilating a molehill into a rugged mountain whose peaks were invincible. Lucidity was so pathetically ordinary that we brushed it aside with impatient hands. We had excavated layers and layers of such extra ordinary interpretations to the myriad cornucopia of the very mundane, the very common place.

As a result, we scratched and scarred each other with thorny barbs, sarcastic snide, provocative jibes, sanguinary sneers, razor sharp tongues, and all such means which were more brutal than any other deadly weapon or devastating missile challenging human sovereignty. The apple of discord seemed so important at that point of heated arguments, when we spit mud and gore at each other, that our octaves reached the super sonic till we decided to bang down the phone into each other’s ears and resolved never to speak again.

As the temperature cooled down pity bordering on contempt for the opponent overtook guilt of rubbing salt on each other’s wound. An inflated ego refused to acknowledge faults in behaviour or flaws in perspective. As time passed the moment of insanity receded back to history gradually letting rationality brighten up the day.

On hindsight, winning the argument seemed more important than the actual contention which could have had a simpler solution, a more tranquil rejoinder and also a more amicable finale. But when the mind is fuzzed by the overbearing concern of proving one self right, intelligent handling of an accidentally manhandled situation takes the back seat.

Yes, all word wars are accidents and as the term goes avoidable or with a little care and ease amenable to circumvention. But the ego is quite a fool and rushes in where angels fear to tread resulting in aftermaths which may at times prove beyond repair.

I wish the mind was gifted with more alacrity so that we could clutch in the brake and shift gears escaping the obstructive visual well in time before headlong bumping into it. I wish we could brace ourselves before giving in to torrents of tongue lashing. I wish detached, impartial logic and cool, contained rationalism had the better of us and not snore in one remote corner of our cerebrum or salivate over the discord greedily when these were most needed.

I wish…………..but every such wish is always on hindsight……..isn’t it?

WINDOW TO AN EARLY MORN!

A cloudy dawn. Stilled in time. The sky is streaked with the colours of a promising day. Amidst the dark there is the wink of the pale gold. I think I'll give myself a break from my daily chores. The kitchen sighs. My heart sings. The birds chirp. I can hear the clanking noise of a cyclist going past. Its wonderful to just sit by and let the various noises of the surround soak into your system. You feel alive. One with Nature. Oh! Did I tell you about the wispy fragrances in the air. The jasmine and the marigold. No roses, please. But yes, a yellow little flower with an unknown name has just opened her eyes to this world and stares in awe. Sprinkled by dew drops, the leaves chuckle to themselves. Mr. Snow Boot (my pet) has something to say to each one of them. Perhaps, like "You lazy heads! Wake up!" He occasionally takes a round of my room clapping his ears to let me know he is there. The morning smells, the steaming cup of tea (that of course I made), the silence before the humdrum of day to day activities take over charge. The clock sings her own tune. Eight o'clock. Must gear myself up to face another day. Lord! Give me strength!And peace.