The Naked Somnambulist


“What hath night to do with sleep?”
(John Milton, ‘Paradise Lost’)

The world rests in the night. Trees, mountains, fields and faces are released from the prison of shape and the burden of exposure. Each thing creeps back into its own nature within the shelter of the dark. Darkness is the ancient womb. Night-time is womb-time. Our souls come out to play with nightfall. The darkness absolves everything; the struggle for identity and impression fades away.

But for some, night-time is the time for a surreal adventure, it is the moment of surrender to the darkest dreams, it is the hallway to purge the thoughts of a life known long before.

A poem portraying a sleepwalker’s journey through the portals and vaults of his past life:

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The Samaritan’s Gift



“A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions,

and the roots spring up and make new trees.
The greatest work that kindness does to others is that
it makes them kind themselves.”
(Amelia Earhart)

What goes around comes around – and with kindness, it really does. Research shows that being kind to others increases our own levels of happiness as well as theirs. What’s more, it has a knock-on effect: kindness is contagious, so it makes our communities nicer places to be.

Kindness can be as simple as a smile, a thank-you, or a word of encouragement. It’s a way of connecting, even if only for a brief moment, with those we pass in our daily lives. It doesn’t have to cost anything or take much time – what’s important is that, it’s an act of genuine care and thoughtfulness for another person.

To be kind, it’s important for us to be aware of the people around us, and to notice their needs and feelings. We all have an innate compassion but sometimes it takes bit of time for us to tune into it. As the great Dalai Lama says: “Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.”

A visual insight presented as a poem, observed while I had gone out for one of my evening strolls and accidentally thought of enjoying some finger-licking KFC pieces:

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Flashback


“Flashback
To the days when the nights were young
Flashback
When we could do no wrong
Flashback
We used to dance to the light of dawn
Flashback
When our hearts were so strong”
(British band ‘Imagination’)

The idol of Goddess Durga standing tall, mesmerizingly beautiful, epitomizing the divine; the sweet scent of flowers, pure and heavenly; smoky atmosphere of burning incense; the familiar beats of dhaak; gleeful children and full-blown adults alike, dancing with burning coconut coirs in a clay pot; crowd dressed in the most glittering finery; mouth-watering dishes, wonderfully decorated lights, and soulful rabindra sangeet.

YES. It is that time of the year again, when the brain gets into a fierce fight with the heart. While on the one hand, work and prospects for a ‘better, brighter future’ keep clouding the mind, on the other, nostalgia attempts to tear the heart apart. Silent sighs and sweet memories are all that one is left with.

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