It was a bright sunny day. She turned on her bed and looked around sleepily. After a few minutes of identity crisis, she realised who she was, where she was and then remembered that she had the whole day to herself, after a long time. There was no alarm, there was no running to work, there was no schedule to follow. It was a break. She had works pending or things that she might do beforehand, but she chose otherwise. It'd been a long time since she had last felt free. She got up with a lot of fresh air inside. By the time she was done with her morning chores, the electricity took a leave. "This is the third time in this week", she muttered and sat down in despair. Now she was stuck. "I am not going to let my peace fade with this shit". She decided to get out and go wherever she felt like. It was better to be scorched by heat outside than to die of suffocation in the room. She went out.
She was happy. She was having a free flow of thoughts. There was no perceivable preoccupation. And all of this was after a long time. She was feeling something else. She couldn't understand what it was, but it was something new in ages. She was walking down the streets and was beaming with delight. Sitting quietly in the cafe didn't annoy her. She was calmly sipping her coffee with eyes closed. There was something that filled her. Delight? Maybe. Peace? Maybe. Lack of craving? Maybe. She realised that she was feeling complete. What was lacking before and what was complete now were things she couldn't figure out. Not that she tried too much to figure them out. She could just sit for hours and keep her eyes closed without having an urge for anything. She was no more engaged in any conversation with herself. It was not an absolute blankness though. There was something, a something which she couldn't further elaborate.
When she was back on the road, the sun couldn't bother her. She was engrossed in seeing the road covered on both sides by trees with leaves tinged golden green by the sun, the red buildings behind the trees, the occasional passing of two or three cars, the group of people sitting in a shadow behind their auto-rickshaws and wiping down the sweats with their shirts, the shopkeeper's wife falling out with her husband, the overall empty and peaceful surroundings. The art exhibition had never been something she was any expert at or had the minimum of knowledge about, but she felt she could understand a bit of some paintings and sketches at least. She was trying to look at every detail of the picture to bridge between the ideas she was forming from it. She was oblivious to the presence or absence of anyone else in the gallery. She didn't get afraid of being judged. She could be unintellectual unlike anyone there, but she was totally comfortable with it. She had no hurry. She took as much time as she wanted in front of every picture. She took snaps of one or two that made some impact on her. Out of the gallery, she roamed around the whole building. Her orthopedically unstable sole did not betray. It never retaliated. She could form some ideas to initiate her next piece of writing. She hummed. And she felt that the songs going on inside her were in sync, with what she didn't know.
The dream was put to a halt by a call. But it was unable to counteract her "something". She got into the cab. She didn't need to put the earphones on, because she had no paucity of music inside. Looking through the glass at the sky she suddenly got hold of her "something". It suddenly opened itself up in front of her. The synchrony, the completeness, the peace, the inexpressible thing filling up her void were nothing but the one thing she had always been scared of. It was a different engagement within herself. There was no waiting for a message to arrive or the phone to ring. The absence made it omnipresent. She sighed. She had been through this once before. And she knew what it might lead to. But she knew even better that there was no going back now. The heaviness she'd been carrying inside her for how long she didn't know settled everything else down. It felt like something was choking her. It wanted to come out. It might rain inside any moment. She closed her eyes again. Two small drops flowed down her cheeks.
When she was back on the road, the sun couldn't bother her. She was engrossed in seeing the road covered on both sides by trees with leaves tinged golden green by the sun, the red buildings behind the trees, the occasional passing of two or three cars, the group of people sitting in a shadow behind their auto-rickshaws and wiping down the sweats with their shirts, the shopkeeper's wife falling out with her husband, the overall empty and peaceful surroundings. The art exhibition had never been something she was any expert at or had the minimum of knowledge about, but she felt she could understand a bit of some paintings and sketches at least. She was trying to look at every detail of the picture to bridge between the ideas she was forming from it. She was oblivious to the presence or absence of anyone else in the gallery. She didn't get afraid of being judged. She could be unintellectual unlike anyone there, but she was totally comfortable with it. She had no hurry. She took as much time as she wanted in front of every picture. She took snaps of one or two that made some impact on her. Out of the gallery, she roamed around the whole building. Her orthopedically unstable sole did not betray. It never retaliated. She could form some ideas to initiate her next piece of writing. She hummed. And she felt that the songs going on inside her were in sync, with what she didn't know.
The dream was put to a halt by a call. But it was unable to counteract her "something". She got into the cab. She didn't need to put the earphones on, because she had no paucity of music inside. Looking through the glass at the sky she suddenly got hold of her "something". It suddenly opened itself up in front of her. The synchrony, the completeness, the peace, the inexpressible thing filling up her void were nothing but the one thing she had always been scared of. It was a different engagement within herself. There was no waiting for a message to arrive or the phone to ring. The absence made it omnipresent. She sighed. She had been through this once before. And she knew what it might lead to. But she knew even better that there was no going back now. The heaviness she'd been carrying inside her for how long she didn't know settled everything else down. It felt like something was choking her. It wanted to come out. It might rain inside any moment. She closed her eyes again. Two small drops flowed down her cheeks.
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