Moments

It’s extremely difficult to imagine how moments characterize ages. There are the great ones and the not so great (read ‘I’ll kill you if you ever told this to anyone’) ones. You may spend donkey’s years in an environment weaving in and out of it, but there are moments that stand out either like bright vermillion flowers on a beige sari or like the mud splashed, on a startched white kurta, by a passing vehicle on a rainy day, on your way to office. So much for analogies.

Among all of the many moments, there are some strange ones, strange because you experience a sudden feeling of elation, rather intoxicating, consuming you in it. And you don’t want it to end.

I had this unusual feeling looking out at the sea one day, the wind in my hair, the vast expanse of water reaching out to me, speaking to me, entertaining me with vivid colors glistening under the morning sun. It was not the first time I was on a beach but that moment was different, unexplainable.

Or the other day when I was in a rickshaw and it started raining buckets. I tried in vain to stay dry and then I let go, in fact I sat on one end of the rickshaw devouring every raindrop coming my way! Needless to say, I felt great!

Maybe these are your brain siestas, where reasoning conflicts give way to unlimited freedom, freedom from relations, freedom from hassles, freedom from routine, freedom from trying to be perfect, in short freedom from yourself.

The openness around you wants to engulf you in it and you fall prey (thankfully), ready to wash off your egos, your identity. And suddenly the moment ends, leaving you exhilarated, amazed, recharged, and more importantly at peace with yourself.