Two days ago, I walked on to the
terrace of my house in search of something which my soul was longing for; to
find answers to my long silence; a silence which was marked by absence of
expression; a silence which was the result of my not being able to condense
many thoughts floating in my mind; the thoughts which used to take some shape
but vanish into thin air like flakes of cotton; the thoughts which I tried to
hold onto and put together but couldn’t succeed. They seemed to go away but,
like honeybees returning to the queen bee used to come back to my
mind. I felt as if they were asking me a
question “when will you put the essence we collected into a shape and be
relieved of the heaviness within you?
Heaviness? I didn’t know that I was carrying a load. “What could
the load be?”I asked myself. As if they were privy to what was going on within
me, the thoughts said “the load of your inability to express. Don’t ask us how
to do it. Observe the clouds and you will know”.
It was at the behest of my
thoughts that I sat comfortably near the water tank placed in the South West and
started observing the clouds with the twilight as their backdrop. Birds
returning home after a long day’s work and the setting Sun going to rise in
another horizon provided the perfect setting to the perplexity in my mind. The
former were reaching their nests for a night’s rest while the latter although looked
like retiring to bed was in fact going for another shift of work. “When will my
thoughts reach their nest? Will they find a shape or keep going around like the
Sun?” I mused.
Suddenly, a heavy South Westerly
wind caught me unawares and almost dislodged me from my seat. I looked towards the sky as if by reflex and saw that the snow
white clouds were also being dislodged from their place and were wafting all
over the sky in an aimless fashion. “You are like my thoughts” saying so I
tried to establish a connection with the clouds. “No” there came an emphatic reply.
“We are different from your thoughts. We do float light and aimless alright
but, that is when we are still in the process of gathering might. Once we have
enough of our collection, we condense and give it a definite shape”.
“That is really nice. How do you
manage to do it” I asked.
There came a loud thunder from
above as if the clouds were having a mighty laugh at my seemingly innocent
question. “Look at us” they said in unison. The wind stopped as if by magic;
the white clouds changed into jet black colour; the sky looked as if a black
carpet was spread over it and it started pouring heavily. “See, that is how we
do it. Collect, condense and deliver. You can also do it”
I was still perplexed and the
solution didn’t seem easy. “I do not have the assistance of the south westerly
winds to make my thoughts condense and deliver. Will you please help me?”I
asked.
“You do not require South
Westerly winds. You be the wind underneath your thoughts, rise high, negotiate the hurdles successfully
and help them reach their destination. Right now, you are not allowing the thoughts to gain strength
to be able to surmount the obstacles and take a shape” said the clouds.
“How do I make my thoughts
strong? I was under the impression that I am good at giving a perfect shape to
my thoughts. What you are saying is something strange to me” I cried aloud.
“You are right. This is exactly
the perplexity you mentioned a while ago. While you are able to give shape to
few of your thoughts, the ones which really matter, like the rain bearing
clouds are still floating lightly in your mind. Rein them, put in order, nurture,
give wings and help them rise above the obstacles of disbelief and uncertainty.
Let those thoughts which bring your life to fruition be the foremost in your
mind. The rest will take a cue and rejuvenate themselves” the clouds went
ahead.
“Is it not a tall order? I
need your guidance to find those thoughts which bring my life to fruition. Will you please help me?" I do not know whether the words came out of my mouth or
not but was sure that the clouds heard them because lightened they were by
giving shape to their contents, they drifted happily over the clear sky and
seemed to wave at me with a hidden message.
“What could the message be?”
I thought and kept looking at the sky. The birds chirping happily and heading
towards their nest; the Sun going to brighten another horizon and the happily
drifting clouds seemed to tell me that “Each one has to find his own Way”.
