The play of light and shadows, the mystic sunshine, trapped between the dark leaves of the tall trees, cast their own spell on me. With the golden sunshine, blurring my vision, time seems, to stop or slow down. Is it me, or has really the good old Earth gone slow on her axis?
May be there is something poisonous in the air, which seeps into my system through my skin that makes my vision at times really strange. Like the other time, when the road ahead had suddenly become an illuminated island of pale yellow sunlight, colouring all the mundane with its shine. Although, I was in a hurry, suddenly, I stopped or was forced to stop to watch the spectacle of nature at her best. I expected the spirits to come crawling out of their shadows immediately to ask me "Who do you seek that you fail to see the miracle being played daily?'
All of a sudden it was as if a new world was unhinged before me, with secret doors slowly opening to a parallel world of slowness and grace. Simple acts, had become for that fleeting moment something beyond comprehension and loaded with grace. Grace, normally associated with that of movement of an experienced dancer become the order than the exception. A rabid dog, crossing the road, or the dry leaf of tree floating down the asphalt was filled with Art with a capital A. Was it what is called as mindfulness that you suddenly realise the beauty of the world at large?
The vision faded as soon as it came, but it has remained with me and I guess at times I just slip into that world which I do not know exists or not. But yes, when ever I see that golden sunlight, I can feel the magic which makes music becoming something tangible and I wish I get lost in that world
May be there is something poisonous in the air, which seeps into my system through my skin that makes my vision at times really strange. Like the other time, when the road ahead had suddenly become an illuminated island of pale yellow sunlight, colouring all the mundane with its shine. Although, I was in a hurry, suddenly, I stopped or was forced to stop to watch the spectacle of nature at her best. I expected the spirits to come crawling out of their shadows immediately to ask me "Who do you seek that you fail to see the miracle being played daily?'
All of a sudden it was as if a new world was unhinged before me, with secret doors slowly opening to a parallel world of slowness and grace. Simple acts, had become for that fleeting moment something beyond comprehension and loaded with grace. Grace, normally associated with that of movement of an experienced dancer become the order than the exception. A rabid dog, crossing the road, or the dry leaf of tree floating down the asphalt was filled with Art with a capital A. Was it what is called as mindfulness that you suddenly realise the beauty of the world at large?
The vision faded as soon as it came, but it has remained with me and I guess at times I just slip into that world which I do not know exists or not. But yes, when ever I see that golden sunlight, I can feel the magic which makes music becoming something tangible and I wish I get lost in that world
