Find The Silence

You are walking along a shady road on a cool October morning.

The road is resplendent with tall trees on both sides. It is one of those days when time is not measured by the clock but by the fragrant coolness that enters lazily through your nostrils and leaves pools of contentment in its wake. The morning is arrested at the delightful moment which falls between the hush of dawn and the waking up din of a young city. There are people around, but they seem wrapped in dreams which are yet to wake up.

There are a couple of cows and a calf in an enormous vacant field in the distance. A dark brown bull and a graceful beige cow. The calf is new born; it walks about stiffly on legs which are not yet accustomed toΒ  obey its commands. As far as eye can see, the field is bathed in the many colors of green.

There is the neon green of young grass, and the deep green of mature grass. Dew shimmers in hazy blue shadows on the trembling slender stalks. Someone has walked across the field leaving dew-less footprints of dulled green on a sea of glitter. There is the vivid green of ferns growing in the wild and the forest green of Shesham trees.

The Indian mehendi green leaves of the neem trees glitter in the pale sunshine as if dipped in liquid gold. The sea green of dense bushes is the playground of hundreds of birds- some tiny like the midnight blue hummingbird, some garish like the black- hooded yellow Oriole.Β  A crow takes a solemn ride of the back of the cow. She swishes her tail once in a while, knowing the crow will not move.

An entire flock of vibrant green parrots creates their own music as they try to drown out the calls of the Koel on one hand and the kingfishers perched up on the high tension wires further on. The brown mynahs and the red- throated bulbuls are too busy foraging for food to play silly, noisy games.

The reddish- brown cuckoo sits aloof on the moss encrusted fallen limb of a tree, surveying its domain disdainfully. One can almost sense a sense of supreme detachment in the haughty lift of its head. The jet black swallows swoop gracefully about, unmindful of them all. Butterflies, wasps and bees flit about, going about their business. The world is awash with green, and with life.

You, as we agreed earlier, are walking down a dreamy road. There is a stone bench under a huge tamarind tree whose tiny leaflets are woven together with lustrous sunbeams. As if in a trance, you cross the road an sit down on that bench, facing the vacant field. You are looking at the field, yet not looking. Your mind is quiet for once. There are no thoughts to disturb the pools of contentment within you.

You have found the silence.

Picture From Google Images
Picture From Google Images

21 thoughts on “Find The Silence”

  1. Poetry in prose, Dagny!

    Please do let me know how to find the silence without having to wake up so early in the morning that the dew has not yet evaporated πŸ™‚

    1. Suresh, I am hardly the person to advise you. An erudite man like you will surely have figured out a way to access your silence. Velvety nights, as the world around you sleeps, must be your time to delve deep within, right? πŸ™‚

  2. And this is how you describe a silent picture postcard if your name is Dagny!
    Lovely. Saying any more than that would be spoiling it.

    1. Thank you for your considerate brevity. Although words from a master wordsmith can only add beauty and grace to silent picture postcards. πŸ˜€

    1. Thank you Sakshi! πŸ˜€ Compliments from people you hold in high regards matter so much more, don’t they? πŸ˜€

  3. This is so much a here-and-now experience. It is a land I visit during meditation, a land where I must have lived in some reality … the smells and the dew is so real

  4. Right through the article I kept on expecting some sordid twist that will plunge me right into some insane situation that the newspapers are so full of these days… but it did not happen. So many writers are fond of such ploys.

    So I read it all again with the mind calmed and the pulse normal. Yes, it was sheer poetry without being loaded with syllabic counts, rhyme schemes and iambs.

    Arvind Passey

    1. Arvind: We have more than enough sorrow thrown at us where ever we turn nowadays. Unless we can create pools of tranquility within us, how can we keep sane?

      Thank you for your appreciation. I am much pleased. πŸ™‚

  5. I loved the calm ending. I enjoy the power of silence as well. It helps me connect with my thoughts and feelings. And yes, I have experienced some beautiful early mornings too. My husband and I when we go on vacations wake up early to go and watch the sunrise, to hear the birds and to experience the intensity of nature when mankind is still asleep. Perched side by side, quiet and lost in our thoughts, watching the sun slowly go up the horizon is among the amazing memories I’ve had. We also enjoy trekking again savoring the quiet in each other’s company. Just love the silence sometimes!

    1. What a lovely bouquet of memories Rachna. I am feeling so smug my piece was able to take you into your memories so deeply. Dont bother about the commendation, your reaction was a greater commendation than any words could have been.

      Jab khana khane wala kha kar chup chaap chala jaaye to samjho khana swadisht bana hai. Vo to jab khane mein maza nahi hota na, to khane wala apni shabdon se use chatpata banata hai… πŸ˜€

    1. You ought to see Jabalpur this year Achyut. It surpasses itself. Such greens!

      I had forgotten that Jabalpur is familiar to you. I love you all over again… just for that. πŸ˜€

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