My Solitude Shared

It is a sedate morning after many days. The torrential rain of the last few nights has petered down into a drizzle today. Though the sky is still overcast, yet some outlines have started emerging. They are strange, still somewhat familiar shapes. Are they the voyagers from the faraway ocean or the dreams arising from within my being? Clouds and Sun are not playing their usual hide and seek, but the last of the raindrops are already having fun on the leaves. The smaller ones merge into one another and then start sliding downs if competing with the larger ones. They pause for a fraction of a moment at the edge of the leaf and then jump off the leaf. Do they know that their world exists till the edge of the leaf only, or is it just my thinking? Or, maybe having travelled through the firmament, they are so well prepared for life ahead that they readily jump off the edge of the leaves. Travel predates the traveller and prepares him for the destination and beyond. Tracing the visible and imagining the invisible in the journey of raindrops has kept me grounded for the better part of the early morning.

As the Sun rose high in the sky and it was time for me to leave, I realised that all the earthworms had already gone back. A large number of them had emerged out on the stone walkway as if enjoying a leisurely early morning stroll. From where had they come? Did the downpour flood their dwellings, forcing them to come out? Or, did they just wanted to savour the freshly washed greenery and the glowing, sparkling nature? Keeping my cup of morning coffee aside, I wondered at their trails. Were the earthworms on some special errand? A friend had once told me that they were the Almighty’s little helpers. Whatever these little creatures might have been, at that time, their trails held me spellbound. They bore an uncanny resemblance with the crisscrossing lines on my palm. Did they also contain a message or a piece of information? I discovered that my thoughts were getting trapped in the maze drawn by the trails.

What had they been trying to tell? I had no means to know. Bubbles, ripples and earthworms shared the puddles formed by rainwater. It reminded me of the time and space shared between all of us also. Their trails enlivened the patterns emerging and dissolving within and around all of us. Gazing at the grass, trying to unearth an answer, I found a captivating shimmer arrest my vision. I had stumbled on a treasure strewn all around me. It is an incredible experience. Mesmerised by the glow, I stop short of venturing further into the lawn to collect those pearls.

“What shall you do with these pearls? Gather them, if you have to, with your eyes only and store them in your being, your words, and your silence.”

Who is there sharing my solitude? There is someone for sure but can my inability to visualise negate its existence? Why should visible appearance be the only tangible parameter for vouchsafing existence? I can feel that presence in the freshness of the raindrops and the touch of the breeze. I can see it in the smile of the rising Sun, smell it in the heady aroma arising from the earth, and hear it in the chirping of birds. What more evidence do I need to know that someone is sharing my solitude?

The feeling is one of deja vu. Whether amidst the multitude or just with myself, I have always enjoyed this gift of solitude. It is the same presence who bestows as well as shares it. Minus the interference of any sorts, it is a sublime solitude and a delightful sharing.

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