At long last, I have put down the War and Peace book that I was reading for some time. As always it happens, reading a book is like a spiritual journey for me, it completely absorbs me as I feel one with it. My new dwelling place becomes the world of the book as my thoughts, imaginations, dreams transcend reality zone. I live another life with the characters, sighing with them through their turbulent moments, laughing their laughs and sharing magical mysteries with them.

As the journey nears its end, I start dreading the moment; yet tend to rush through the pages, as the tension palpates with each delay. For me it is essential that before I finish the book in entirety, I must decide on the next as my standby because the process of finishing the book leaves me completely orphaned and insecure. So I must have my security vault laid down before me. The next book is now already in my hands – The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinback. I read this book when I was in school and somehow Tom Joad always stayed in the mind. In fact, for last some years I have keenly desired to shuffle through the pages once again and understand the trauma of a bankrupt America hit by Great Depression of the 1930’s and the flight and travails of migrant farmers to the oasis of California orchards. And now here I am, already relishing each bite of the pages!

My state of mind is quaint.. there are words overflowing seeking outburst yet I remain coiled within myself. I feel paused in a moment but the same moment is pregnant with rigmarole of emotions, upheavals, fears, and joyous rapture. It is something I cannot explain. I am enjoying the silences and spending time looking inwards, yet I am at complete ease with people around too.. I am not judgmental nor vociferously vituperous in my words, the tongue lashes out no more, rather taken oars in its moorings.

My sea of solitude stretches far and wide yet loneliness is never on prowl to seek a victim out of me. I am my own salvation, unsuspecting of any doom I live ecstatically each moment, whether anguished or uplifted.. whether tantalizing or sedately valium. Demurely I prevail over these cataclysmic yet paused moments.. I seek no subterfuges for my inactivity, as weather plays its tricks on my heart too. I cascade with the seasons and nurture my gracious senses on each sound and smell that wafts out of the air around and within me.

Life has offered me a lot, what I have desired as well as what I haven’t looked out for. For me, material pleasures is never the barometer of intrinsic satisfaction rather it is the privilege of being loved and cherished by the people around me. I must say I have been fortunate in this regard in ample measures. The canvas on which I paint my life each day is sprinkled with hues and shades from gray to vibrant, yet no colour ever scares me as I prefer to understand the ambience, depth and nuances of each shade.. Inner fears may lurk yet it is never the preferred proposition to cede to their onslaught since my securities manage to keep them at bay and suffuse within myself new sense of well-being. Every tear rejuvenates and lightens the loads within my innards and dislodges the hard steel walls that I may erect from time to time in my heart. The mists in the eyes remind me the joy of laughter and silence as they dispel the darkness and spread wide open the apparitions to filter in new light and realms of thoughts.