A lazy morning characterized by still and emotionless clouds floating above the landscape of tall apartments and patches of trees, the same scene that’s been playing out through the same window of the same room has never surprised. The fluffy set of cumulus clouds always lured you into emulating its stillness, the same way how you’d talk in an Australian accent for the rest of the day after watching Thor.
Its early winter, and all I ever think of at this time of the year is how well I should wrap myself in my blanket and wait for the sun to rise again, or perhaps read a paperback on the best days. The warm cup of coffee especially on such days felt great as it soothed my cold palm and opened up my drowsy eyes.
From all the countless times I’ve drank coffee from the same ol’ cup, there was something unexplainable about it this time. I felt the coffee! I Felt the warmth, felt the people sweating to feed their children, felt the complexities for the beans to come as coffee in my cup. The realization that life is happening as I take every sip and nothing of it can be refunded for a better version. TIME is not a product on Amazon to be purchased when we please. Sadly enough, I felt the weight of my cup decreasing until next time the same cup is filled again…but with a different emotion and a different mindset.
Unlike every other day after drinking where I shove the cup into the sink and carry on with whatever I’d planned to do, I just sat there dazed and confused.
I thought about the number of times I’ve drank coffee and never payed any attention to it.
I thought about the things I wanted to do and the things I didn’t.
I know 19 is no age to regret about the feats not performed, but it’s a nagging unconscious response to not fully utilising those healthy years. The coffee was kicking in, jittering my veins to get up and do something.
So I did!
But often, in the world’s most crowded streets,
The Buried Life
But often, in the din of strife,
There rises an unspeakable desire
After the knowledge of our buried life;
BY MATTHEW ARNOLD
I pulled out my bag filled a compartment with snacks that can support me for a day, laptop and charger in its place and took a minute of thinking to whether I should carry an extra pair of clothes. I settled in doing so.
I ventured out having no idea what or where my next step is gonna lead, just sure about how my instincts are going to be commander in chief for a while. I got to the bus stop, boarded a rusty blue and white bus which goes to “I don’t know where” and bought a classic day pass.
The bus rolled forward, I zoned in to the music blasting from my earphones. Familiar landscapes turned into places of only a hint of familiarity until I had no idea where the hell I was. Obviously opening maps on my phone would defeat the purpose and I’ve sworn not to make that an option. Sometimes chance encounters are what makes life interesting.
It struck me that although technology comes with its limitless perks, it has surely cast out the joy of pure adventure. That big looming question of what the near future carries is what pumps adrenaline, and that’s exactly what the smart world has eliminated.
Time passed and the bus continued rustling forward. The tech companies and skyscrapers that characterized the city swiftly descended down to slums and villages, a steady mix Indian metropolitans are known to have. The muddy roads gave way to tiny shops and half naked children running along the disfigured streets.
I listened; I got off at the next stop. Surely was I afraid of being accepted as the moment I got off, about 7 kids stopped mid-way and glared at me. I tried to break a smile but before I knew it, the kids rushed in my direction and flung their hands at mine for a handshake. A handshake! I’m still bombarding with myself on whether the emotion I felt at the moment was happiness in its purest form or an ego boost. I gladly led them all to a nearby shop and bought them whatever they wanted, said goodbye in a language I hope they positively understood and boarded the next bus.
It was gratitude I felt!
A lot of curved roads and steep slopes later, I Iaid my eyes on a large edifice named Modern Art Gallery. I listened; got off the bus and soon enough, I found myself transfixed on a six-foot square oil painting by an artist probably from the middle east from the way it sounded.
I wasn’t aware I was accompanied by a girl who seemed to be caught in the trance of the same painting until I was, and before my next line of thought was allowed to entertain my conscience, we began talking. We seemed to share more in common than differences and headed for lunch together.
I told her about the unknown I decided to embrace for a while and to my surprise, she seemed thrilled with the same energy and wanted to join me for the rest of the day.
I was thrilled.
We went to a planetarium and shared our love for space, hitchhiked to a nearby city, had street food with another person we met and slept on a sofa in the house of a kind man who loved our intention.
I woke up the next morning to the sound I wake to every morning, half groggy and half amused at how the 10-year-old alarm clock made its way to this random place. Reaching out for the clock was as involuntary as scrolling through an Instagram feed. But instead of snoozing and heading back for the pillow, my heart ached by the wave of understanding that it was all a dream.
It’s the little things in life that matter the most, not every step we take has be grandiose enough to impress the ones around us. Although I didn’t end up doing anything that falls under the category of “fancy” in the dream, every act was as pleasing as it gets and I couldn’t ask for more.
Satisfaction comes in doing the things we love irrespective of how it might seem to the viewer. The mere act of stepping out and having a cup of coffee with someone or taking a stroll in a park can have more meaning than a million bucks or a Gucci handbag.
Our subconscious is sure to remind us about the possibilities following a cup of coffee with the sunrise. Embracing this unknown and listening to that inner voice is the only thing that highlights the difference between achieving our definition of satisfaction every single day lived and the alternative.
“In traveling, a companion, in life, compassion,'” she repeats, making sure of it. If she had paper and pencil, it wouldn’t surprise me if she wrote it down. “So what does that really mean? In simple terms.”
Haruki Murakami – Kafka on the shore
I think it over. It takes me a while to gather my thoughts, but she waits patiently.
“I think it means,” I say, “that chance encounters are what keep us going. In simple terms.”
Until my next brew!
SliceAndDice 