He Could Have ........
A pounding heart, erupts pulsating emotions within , which ,haven't let him remain at peace today .
Moving all alone in this mighty rain , he hasn't resorted to shelter .People are running here and there but he is moving all alone embracing every raindrop .Enduring these raindrops, drenched from head to toe he feels he might just forget her .In the clamour of these rains ,he wants to get lost ,he wishes to forget himself, he wants to forget misery that he is going through .And surprisingly this escape from his own self is giving him some peace ,in this noise of thunder, amidst the commotion of the city with cars running over pools of water splashing muddy water all around he feels a bit relieved ,he feels he has been able to distance himself from his own turmoil that is more noisy than what he hears around .And with darkness taking over ,with intensifying rains and with a giant uproar of black clouds he feels a bit more comfortable as in this noise around ,outcry of his bewailing heart has been toned down. He can no longer listen to himself
He isn't here ,He is lost somewhere. He says to himself ," Distance means little when someone means so much ." Although to him this thought seems to be an imported one ,it isn't his thought, he feels .It lacks conviction ,this thought may comfort him a bit but it isn't a convincing answer . An answer is for a question but love poses no questions . It is subtle ,it is an act of complete surrender .
The language of love is loftier than the language that emanates from tongue throat and lips .It is a timeless language common to all generations of humankind which only heart speaks and only heart can listen. More you will try to understand it more you will fail, it is something which just happens ...
He jolts himself from within and says to himself " You could have .. Yes you could have ..!"
Today in the morning, he saw his love ,on the road standing opposite to the rising sun ,her face bathed in the sunlight . He felt as if the beautiful moon is facing the sun . Her face radiated by sunlight was not all ,the rays reflected the calm within her .The dazzle was not of the reflecting sunlight alone ,it was the radiance of a beautiful caring soul which these days resonates with his own soul .All he could see was her shining small eyes resting on rosy lovely cheeks and her face shining with vibrancy of youth. How can he describe her to one who have never seen her ?Can somebody describe the fragrance and redness of the rose .It is like the drop of the dew that slips from the petals of the rose soon one tries to touch it .Beauty is the language only two souls resonating in love can understand,it is a bliss .Beauty is like life that draws colour from the earth and fills it beautifully on flowers and trees and provides the sweetest aroma to them .Beauty is a sensation beyond all the abstractions .
They write to each other .
It had been seven long years since he had seen her .He writes to her almost weekly ,they exchange photographs in their correspondences but seeing his love abruptly made him go breathless .The rhythm of the breath had lost synergy with the heart beat. For a moment ,it seemed to him that heart had taken over mind and he felt he had lost control over himself .It was just a glance and within seconds his car took away from her .He thought to stop but he doesn't know what kept him driving ,he didn't stop .
That glance had brought all the seven years back .A girl full of energy ,childish and innocent had turned up into a composed young girl .A young girl whose face had an unusual poise and serenity gazed from her eyes . He had seen her in photographs that she mailed to him but today he saw her in reality .Photographs of hers were always beautiful but how can a photograph speak the vibrancy of youth ,the liveliness of the eyes ,the calmness like a lake with its blue waters in the winter.
A glance, only a glance has wetted the barren land of his heart. A letter from her always inundated his heart and soul with extreme happiness and an unusual ecstasy but today he felt within himself the essence of petrichor. A lover felt the same as the soil parched by the scorching sun in dry season feels when it gets sprinkled by the first drizzle .He felt the same joy as the lone surviving tree would feel after getting splashed in the first rains .He felt that only he knew the patience of that tree in the arid land being thrashed by the hot dusty winds withstanding the scorching sun to just embrace his love .He felt only he knows the tree's valour fighting ,for his life in the dry season just to get his love . A love which showers from the heavens which we call rains .He felt only he knew the euphoria of this tree welcoming the rains to drench him with all love .Love has many forms and all it knows is to give .
Today in the damped lands of his heart he felt the seed of love has concealed ,sprouted and it is growing every minute .And in growth is the struggle .
He knows his path is the path of struggle .Death may embrace a revolutionary anytime . He is a rebel. He has rebelled against the system that inflicts sorrow on the poor .His foot are set firm in the roads of revolution He knew he could have stopped the car ,he could have run through the crowd to meet his love. He could have seen her face elated to see him .He could have said to her that her eyes looks beautiful and they spoke life .He could have seen her blush and lower her eyes in discomfiture while talking to him. He could have told her that he wants to go along with her, hand in hand, to Nilamgiri Ranges, lay down with her on the land ,face the mighty sky and show her how the stars look in the dark sky ! He could have told her that what Nilamgiri meant to him and every shrub that grew of it was the Lord's Blessing .
If life was as simple as his love he could opened his heart and showed his immaculate affection for her. If circumstances wouldn't have been harsh, he could have told that in all of his writings she is the one being talked about; that all his poems talked about her based on what he could understand from her letters .If only love didn't mean to win over a person he could have shown that his heart bled in sorrow of not being able to confess what he felt .
But he knows ,
"Love is sometimes a serendipity but often it is a conquest .A pragmatic love aims at winning the heart of the one whom you love."
And that is why he writes to lessen the burden on his soul and to move undeterred on his path. A path that he has made for himself ,a path which may be instrumental in bringing changes in the life of people who reside in the Niyamgiri. A path of revolt ,a path that he has set for himself to fight for the ones who are innocent ,one who are aloof from this mad incessant race ...
And he writes in his diary ,"An inexplicable sorrow has surrounded me,the path of love has thorns and I was running bare foot ...You may not know but I have bled every moment forgetting you and when you are in love you know no boundaries ,it is unbound it is divine ...and reasoning loses its path on the ways of heart ,you keep going unaware ..Unarmed I was and you have killed me ...I feel I am a bird whose wings have been slashed and left to die every moment ..For a bird ,flight is its life ...I feel I am a prisoner who has been freed but he loves not his freedom rather craves for the shackles ,confines of the prison has become his existence."
(to be continued.....)
A pounding heart, erupts pulsating emotions within , which ,haven't let him remain at peace today .
Moving all alone in this mighty rain , he hasn't resorted to shelter .People are running here and there but he is moving all alone embracing every raindrop .Enduring these raindrops, drenched from head to toe he feels he might just forget her .In the clamour of these rains ,he wants to get lost ,he wishes to forget himself, he wants to forget misery that he is going through .And surprisingly this escape from his own self is giving him some peace ,in this noise of thunder, amidst the commotion of the city with cars running over pools of water splashing muddy water all around he feels a bit relieved ,he feels he has been able to distance himself from his own turmoil that is more noisy than what he hears around .And with darkness taking over ,with intensifying rains and with a giant uproar of black clouds he feels a bit more comfortable as in this noise around ,outcry of his bewailing heart has been toned down. He can no longer listen to himself
He isn't here ,He is lost somewhere. He says to himself ," Distance means little when someone means so much ." Although to him this thought seems to be an imported one ,it isn't his thought, he feels .It lacks conviction ,this thought may comfort him a bit but it isn't a convincing answer . An answer is for a question but love poses no questions . It is subtle ,it is an act of complete surrender .
The language of love is loftier than the language that emanates from tongue throat and lips .It is a timeless language common to all generations of humankind which only heart speaks and only heart can listen. More you will try to understand it more you will fail, it is something which just happens ...
He jolts himself from within and says to himself " You could have .. Yes you could have ..!"
Today in the morning, he saw his love ,on the road standing opposite to the rising sun ,her face bathed in the sunlight . He felt as if the beautiful moon is facing the sun . Her face radiated by sunlight was not all ,the rays reflected the calm within her .The dazzle was not of the reflecting sunlight alone ,it was the radiance of a beautiful caring soul which these days resonates with his own soul .All he could see was her shining small eyes resting on rosy lovely cheeks and her face shining with vibrancy of youth. How can he describe her to one who have never seen her ?Can somebody describe the fragrance and redness of the rose .It is like the drop of the dew that slips from the petals of the rose soon one tries to touch it .Beauty is the language only two souls resonating in love can understand,it is a bliss .Beauty is like life that draws colour from the earth and fills it beautifully on flowers and trees and provides the sweetest aroma to them .Beauty is a sensation beyond all the abstractions .
They write to each other .
It had been seven long years since he had seen her .He writes to her almost weekly ,they exchange photographs in their correspondences but seeing his love abruptly made him go breathless .The rhythm of the breath had lost synergy with the heart beat. For a moment ,it seemed to him that heart had taken over mind and he felt he had lost control over himself .It was just a glance and within seconds his car took away from her .He thought to stop but he doesn't know what kept him driving ,he didn't stop .
That glance had brought all the seven years back .A girl full of energy ,childish and innocent had turned up into a composed young girl .A young girl whose face had an unusual poise and serenity gazed from her eyes . He had seen her in photographs that she mailed to him but today he saw her in reality .Photographs of hers were always beautiful but how can a photograph speak the vibrancy of youth ,the liveliness of the eyes ,the calmness like a lake with its blue waters in the winter.
A glance, only a glance has wetted the barren land of his heart. A letter from her always inundated his heart and soul with extreme happiness and an unusual ecstasy but today he felt within himself the essence of petrichor. A lover felt the same as the soil parched by the scorching sun in dry season feels when it gets sprinkled by the first drizzle .He felt the same joy as the lone surviving tree would feel after getting splashed in the first rains .He felt that only he knew the patience of that tree in the arid land being thrashed by the hot dusty winds withstanding the scorching sun to just embrace his love .He felt only he knows the tree's valour fighting ,for his life in the dry season just to get his love . A love which showers from the heavens which we call rains .He felt only he knew the euphoria of this tree welcoming the rains to drench him with all love .Love has many forms and all it knows is to give .
Today in the damped lands of his heart he felt the seed of love has concealed ,sprouted and it is growing every minute .And in growth is the struggle .
He knows his path is the path of struggle .Death may embrace a revolutionary anytime . He is a rebel. He has rebelled against the system that inflicts sorrow on the poor .His foot are set firm in the roads of revolution He knew he could have stopped the car ,he could have run through the crowd to meet his love. He could have seen her face elated to see him .He could have said to her that her eyes looks beautiful and they spoke life .He could have seen her blush and lower her eyes in discomfiture while talking to him. He could have told her that he wants to go along with her, hand in hand, to Nilamgiri Ranges, lay down with her on the land ,face the mighty sky and show her how the stars look in the dark sky ! He could have told her that what Nilamgiri meant to him and every shrub that grew of it was the Lord's Blessing .
If life was as simple as his love he could opened his heart and showed his immaculate affection for her. If circumstances wouldn't have been harsh, he could have told that in all of his writings she is the one being talked about; that all his poems talked about her based on what he could understand from her letters .If only love didn't mean to win over a person he could have shown that his heart bled in sorrow of not being able to confess what he felt .
But he knows ,
"Love is sometimes a serendipity but often it is a conquest .A pragmatic love aims at winning the heart of the one whom you love."
And that is why he writes to lessen the burden on his soul and to move undeterred on his path. A path that he has made for himself ,a path which may be instrumental in bringing changes in the life of people who reside in the Niyamgiri. A path of revolt ,a path that he has set for himself to fight for the ones who are innocent ,one who are aloof from this mad incessant race ...
And he writes in his diary ,"An inexplicable sorrow has surrounded me,the path of love has thorns and I was running bare foot ...You may not know but I have bled every moment forgetting you and when you are in love you know no boundaries ,it is unbound it is divine ...and reasoning loses its path on the ways of heart ,you keep going unaware ..Unarmed I was and you have killed me ...I feel I am a bird whose wings have been slashed and left to die every moment ..For a bird ,flight is its life ...I feel I am a prisoner who has been freed but he loves not his freedom rather craves for the shackles ,confines of the prison has become his existence."
(to be continued.....)
