My magnificent loss

Have you ever felt a loss? Not the conventionally defined ones like the loss of health, a loved one, or money. I mean, a loss of self.

Have you ever felt this pesky feeling of being away from your own being. Feeling like a stranger who has lost his way and is standing at the precipice of sanity, in danger of plunging into deeper dungeons of the horrible demands of life?

I would like to share one such experience of those years with you, when I had been living like a machine, working like a zombie, and there was this something inside me that was slipping away. There, in the shrill of call bells, endless meetings with difficult people, unrelenting deadlines, constant ringing of phone and perpetual demands on my time.

I was pushing myself beyond limits…taxing my mind, body and spirit dangerously.

I realised how I have forgotten the natural rhythm of life. Night is for rest, day is for work, but I was burning the candle at both ends, by working late at night and spending the day in frenzied activity. I was feeling guilty about taking even a brief afternoon nap.

My soul was graying, prematurely.

I knew that I needed to get away from the unrealistic expectations I have set upon myself, and be in touch with the silence within. I longed to be in tune with the serene, poetic and sweet hours, sitting on the bench in a park, watching the shadows fall and dusk turning into twilight. I realized how I missed a quiet stroll on a full moon night and gaze at its reflection in the misty lake below.

Perhaps I needed to get out of my own way. I needed to date myself.

One impulsive moment found me escaping from it all. Dropping everything. Just going to the hills.

The escape...

As my car went up the twirling roads between the rocky hills, I felt a strange tranquility seeping inside my heart...

Let me stop here, and tell all you weary souls out there...if you ever feel dejected with life and its demands, if you are suffering from a broken spirit, or a broken heart, then head for the mountains. This is the sure cure for all your ailments; physical, mental and spiritual. Go up to the hills, stand at a point and gaze at the majestic peaks. The undulating blue haze, the proud bearing, the awed stillness and the purple clouds hovering around it, will smooth out the wrinkles of your soul. It will fill you with a renewed sense of living as if you have just been born. As if life is just this…peace, quiet, an unassuming harmony, and nothing else!

Mountains have all the answers.

When dusk fell...

I walked along the ridge of the hills, inhaling the pine scented evening air. It was filling me with an exquisite exhilaration.

I was walking slowly up the road along the ridge clicking pictures of the serene hills, which were confabulating with the last rays of the setting sun...

Someone was singing a tune. Softly, as he followed me. I turn around. He stops singing.

He had a growth of fine hair over his upper lip and chin, the signature of adolescence on the parting childhood; and the slanting eyes mirrored the decree of native hills. I noticed his painful thinness, that even the worn out leather jacket could not hide, and the long, oily hair falling around his shoulders. I stopped and waited for him to pass me by.

He blushed, looking away but stood his grounds. I started to walk, he followed. I stopped again and asked him. “Shall I click your picture?” He looked at my camera, and gave me a full-blown smile, his broken teeth bringing forth an impish look to his face. I clicked his picture and let him have a glimpse of his photo in my camera. His face lighted up seeing his own face, and then giving me a last look of adoration, he walked away.

Here goes...perhaps the ‘Autumn of 42’!

I lean against the iron grills of the ridge, and laugh until tears come to my eyes.

Fragrant woods, crisp air and the dialects of desire...

I watched the slowly spreading mist kissing the tangerine peaks of the mountains. There goes all the weariness from my heart.

Ah...the joys of an unadulterated evening. I have just gathered the irresistible sunset inside my soul, and have discovered the sensuous secret of sights, scents, sounds and taste. All that I was losing, in the mounting rubble of demands and pressures of living.

I was getting it back. I made a promise to the evening. ‘When I go back, I will savor life in all its slow and sensuous deliberation. I will actually taste my food than just gulp it own hurriedly; I will really listen, rather than just wait impatiently for the other person to complete his sentence so that I can put in my words. And when I am in the shower, I will really feel the water on my skin, than be thinking of my work. I will learn to wait quietly, for things to take its own natural course, than worry myself to death.

I will stop and gaze.

I learned that the secret of romance is, not to rush...to take time in slowly discovering the veiled mysteries of another...and wait patiently to listen one day, the sounds of a special laughter...

That evening, I experienced a magnificent loss. The loss of my brittle and weary self in the mountains.