A Nondescript Bridge

The place was too small to be called a village. Snuggled near the foot of a mountain like a baby wrapped in a blanket it seemed oblivious to time. Way behind in the race for development; still in no hurry at all to catch up with it. It lived with its people, reveling in their joys and mourning in their times of grief. The trees around seem to have conspired to keep this village out of sight lest some gifted soul sets his eye upon it and tries to change it.

… that day I stood there just as a part of the universe. A part assigned to me even before I was born. A fact I had never denied but rarely felt. ‘Coz even before I gained enough sense to create my own definition of this universe, I was handed a script and assigned a place on the great stage we call “world”. Putting down my camera, I took off my CNBC-Asia I-card and walked towards the bridge leaving my pick up jeep behind. I could see the mountains at some distance silhouetted against the rich blue sky dotted with some bright stars.

Trudging along a beaten path I reached one end of the bridge. It looked so different from what it looked during the day. Still and quiet! Like a stone-cutter in deep slumber after a long long day, not in a mood to be disturbed.

Walking with light, surrendered steps I came to the middle of the bridge. I leaned slowly against its paling, hands folded near to me, eyes closed. The wind kissed my cheeks and ruffled my hair. I took a deep breath to absorb all I could in it. The rustic air filled with lullaby gushed to fill up my senses and I could not help feeling like a kid being stroked on his head by his mom.

The stillness made space for me step in. I belonged to this place as much as the place belonged to me or so it felt. With an inexplicable joy I opened my eyes to a lighter shade of horizon. The dew drops had moistened my hair giving them a quaint smell. There was still some time for the sun to cast his spell but those few clouds seemed to be stretching themselves for the day ahead. Thoughtlessly I looked at them strolling towards the moon. Every breath I took was like completing a journey long due. As I was taking in the sights from one end of the bridge to another my eyes rested upon the pager I had left on the dashboard. It was blinking….. the virtually real world was calling!

growing illiterate...

With each passing day I am getting more and more illiterate...

Each class I attend adds a few more areas to my list of ignorance.

It is something like listening or reading to know what all you do not know rather than to know the subject themselves.

As stacks of books breathe their last before my eyes, I realize how much I owed to them. They took away with them a world of their own. And I know that I will not be able to see them again no matter how much ever I wish too.

I sit before my study table with the feeling of separation. But even before I can lament upon their loss another set meets the same fate.

It’s funny!

I think I was more literate as a child, knowing all what was taught to me. I knew about all the birds and animals in my book and about all the tables and addition and subtraction my teacher told me about.

I knew about colors and I knew about the rainbow. And I still had the time to look at the sky and play in my garden.

Life has moved since then to a different stage altogether from school to graduation to here in a management school.

At the end of each term what one retains is an index and a summary. What is in between is to be gone through as and when the need arises.

...aaah ... time to say good bye to yet another book "with a tear in the corner of my eye and a lump in my throat"

bye all ...