Picture Perfect

Reading Time: 2 minutes

It was raining outside. The cool but strong breeze ruffled up the newspaper lying on my bed. As an effect of suffering from the obsessive compulsive personality disorder of keeping things in order, I had to get out of the snug blanket to stack those papers away in the cupboards. Then, I turned towards the balcony to close the sliding window from where the breeze was coming in. I took a look outside the window to find that it was still drizzling steadily. Then, I looked up towards the sky and witnessed a captivating scene. At that midnight stroke, the sky looked like painted with a red canvas with greyish looking clouds floating across it and rain drops, shining under the effect of a tower light located above my floor, merrily choosing a haphazard way, courtesy of the strong breeze, on their downward journey.

I kept watching Nature’s play for quite a while until an impulsive thought flashed that I should reach out for my camera and try to capture this captivating scene. I tried taking a picture of the sky but it was too far. I tried taking a picture of the rain drops falling down, but in the captured frame, they didn’t seem to rejoice like they seem to do when in motion. I tried taking a picture of the tower light which was making the drops visible, but in the frame it hardly looked inspiring. I tried changing the camera modes but no mode seemed to be good enough to capture the moment’s mood. Then, I realized that it’s not worth trying hard since some moments are meant to be cherished and experienced but not to be captured.

I started thinking about what is it that was missing in that picture that it didn’t look perfect like that scene. And I realized it’s easy to capture the image but difficult to capture the perspective of the person who took it. Even when one shares an image, that same image may evoke different feelings for different viewers and yet none of them may be exactly the same as one’s own feeling, since one can’t share one’s perspective along with the image. Camera’s lens isn’t the lens through which we see the world, rather mind is the lens through which we see it. Some lenses are more crooked than others and fail to look at things beyond themselves, while, some others may be too straight to focus on things at hand. As lenses do not come in same shape and size, so doesn’t the perception of perfection.

I have often heard that a picture is worth a thousand words but I feel that sometimes a thousand words are needed to make up a picture’s worth.

Life and Cynicism

Reading Time: 2 minutes

How often in our life have we pondered upon the question that what is the purpose of our life?  René Descartes had said Cogito ergo sum i.e. “I think, therefore I am”, implying the existence of something because it is capable of thinking. It answers the question regarding if I exist or not. However, it doesn’t answer the question about why do I exist. And that is the fundamental question which we ask ourselves rephrasing it in different words like ‘what is the meaning of life’, ‘what is the purpose of life’, ‘ why am I here’ and so on.

Some have spent their entire lives thinking about it yet finding the answers to be elusive. On the other hand, some have spent their entire lives without even thinking about it even once. I am not trying to undermine the act of finding answers to such questions. However, isn’t it often the case that such questions creep into our “restless” mind while our body is resting in comfort, perhaps leaning against the cushion on the sofa-set, having just consumed the delicious dinner, probably bored of browsing internet or surfing the channels and staring aimlessly at the ceiling. Have we ever searched for these answers when we are hungry? I guess we would rather be searching for food. After all,we should first think about surviving and then later on, we could think about why did we first think about surviving. In simpler words, ‘you can’t think about the purpose of your existence if you don’t exist’.

Have I figured out the purpose of my existence? Perhaps not. Moreover, I am cynical about the idea that the moment I find the purpose of life, it would change the way I would live the moments to come thereafter in my life. Maybe my cynicism would prove to be unwarranted when my “restless” mind would succeed in searching these answers. However, for the moment, my restless stomach wants me to search for food.


The broken window

Reading Time: 2 minutes

It was that time of the day (or perhaps night) that made me indecisive as to should I witness the sunrise due in an hour or should I call it a day. If I decided to witness the sunrise, I would be doing so perhaps after a decade. The thought of breathing in the fresh air, listening to chirping of birds and witnessing the vast canvas of sky changing landscapes from red to orange to yellow, all seemed plausible reasons as to why I should relive that experience. However, if I didn’t call it a day that time, I would end up sleeping through this coming day. And in such moments of indecisiveness, I find amusement thinking that probably, most of the births in this world are a result of moments of indecision – the indecision of whether to use protection or not.

I wondered why I suffer from indecisiveness. Is it because no one ever taught me to back my instincts and my reasoning faculty to make a decision for myself? Or is it because someone always backed his instincts and reasoning faculty to make a decision for me? Shall I blame ‘no one’ or ‘someone’ or ‘everyone’? However, I couldn’t decide on whom to blame as another pertinent question popped up that how I could decide to put the blame on anyone while I suffer from indecision.

While the disillusionment about the decisions made in my life dawned upon my mind, so did the rays of sun dawned upon my face through that broken window signaling the start of a new day. A new day – yes, that’s how people like to call each day as they believe with each day, they could start afresh: a new beginning, hence, a new day. I couldn’t say how much I wish that this were true. Had we possessed the ability to clean our slate over a night’s sleep, it would have been really a wonderful day to begin with and a wonderful life to live. However, reality is that on each ‘new’ day, we live through it as a pain with the hope of a better ‘new’ day coming up next day, interact with our surroundings carrying the baggage of our experiences and notions formed in the previous days in life.

The lack of sleep and hence, the weariness, soon, started affecting my thoughts and every object in my surrounding started acquiring significance. The broken window seemed to signify the broken dreams and the rays of light filtering in through that broken window appeared to be comforting me as a glimmer of hope, trying to convey the message to look at the brighter side. I was enticed to look at the brighter side and tried to look beyond that broken window. And after a decade, I observed the magnificent Sun rise up on the horizon. The questions which were bothering me escaped my attention as I heard the birds chirp in a backdrop of a colorful canvas of loud colors. And suddenly I felt that I was now ready to live a new day.