Words

I have cherished words all of my life. With a heart brimming with gladness, with tempestuous eyes or with a soaring spirit, I have loved words. The joy of seeing the teacher’s note on an essay or on the first publication in a newspaper was all an inheritance from words.

The gurgling of the brook, the quaint little town of pines, the soliloquy of the minstrel or the pied beauty of autumn - paint pictures through words. The chant of the ‘Om’ and the ‘I can do it’ self-fulfilling prophecy radiates the incredible power  of words.

The sanctity and serenity emanating from words have mysteriously enriched life in ways indescribable. Spoken or tacit, written or unwritten, words have added meaning and ecstasy beyond words.

Dreams Unbounded

I was sitting by a small window in an attic with a view of the hills and the horizon. In my hands, I had a book which was about clouds and their beauty. To my extreme amazement, as I read the book, the sky in front of me changed to the same translucent shades I was reading about. The view was enchanting - the pastel pinks, the restrained teals and muted oranges all engulfed by the delicate cerulean. On leaving the kingdom of slumber, I realized that this was a dream.This was back in my college days, but it bewildered me since then as I wondered how a dream could be so splendidly ethereal.

I found my answer recently on seeing a picture taken by one of my friends from school in Barapani, Shillong. Growing up in Meghalaya – the abode of the clouds, clouds of every colour graced so many twilight skies. They are part of my fabric and the dream was only an extension of real magic of that land. 

During the same period, I had another dream that was absolutely mystifying. In that dream someone had given me a small figurine of a female form. It was about two inches in height and very slender. I tried but couldn’t identify who it was. After a long time and a lot of searching (all in my dream ) I suddenly noticed that she was holding a Veena*. That day I woke up with a smile.

When I saw the picture of the clouds posted by Devyani on Facebook and came to the realization of the truth of my beautiful dream about a month back, I wondered why I never saw such dreams ever again. This was at bedtime and magic struck again. This time I saw myself riding a cycle passing by a serene structure that some told me is a ‘Buddhist Church’. The building was about five stories high and made of wood with a burnished finish. The place exuded a divine grace as it rose up high behind me. I kept turning back to look at it, while riding the cycle by beautiful green gardens that were in front of it. I woke up with hopes that someday this place with extend into reality.

*Veena - A musical instrument played by the Indian goddess of learning, Saraswati
Photo courtesy: Devyani Sen