Sunday, January 8, 2017

A Walk in the Park

There are phases when the mind grows weary of pursuits close to its heart. It’s time to take a walk in the park. I was trying to give form to thoughts ready to be expressed but then my heart let out a cry and wanted a breath of fresh air. I spent years arriving at new ideas but while my feet kept moving, they never took me to newer horizons and places. There were ideas for the mind but the feet were left with nothing and I could no longer let the indifference continue to bleed. So, I decided to pay heed to the eyes that wanted to look outside. I suddenly felt my lungs take in more air than it ever did before. It was not that I had underestimated my lung capacity but it was just that my mind took more blood than it needed. My lungs were left gasping for more...for more. One day my mind refused to work despite people telling me to pursue its course. How can I do that when my intellect refuses to work? I realized that I was wrong. It was not that my intellect refused to work but it was just that my mind did not let me access the intellect anymore because I had come to neglect the wishes of my body. I decided then that it was time for me to take a walk in the park.
It was a new year and I was in Cubbon park. A sunny afternoon took a nap over the trees so that I could only feel the cool breeze. I believe that it is called the freedom park because it is where the spirit of freedom is parked. I could not see the spark and I did not know where freedom was parked but I was glad that I left my mind behind and got my peace back in time. Here and there were foreigners (perhaps “English” going by the accent) talking about “stone innovations” and local couples by the bench looking to get deeper and liberate themselves from the monotony of pragmatic chores! They expressed their desire ‘to live a little’ as Americans would put it. To live a little in India is to live a lot. In America it is the least that the free spirit would expect. The romantic spirit is different from the free spirit in the loaded sense. The free spirit is broader and travels faster to stagnation while the romantic spirit slows down to a point of stillness with breathing gaining sufficient momentum every time.
I sat on a bench for a while and inhaled peacefully. There were no words of wisdom but simply an air clear of thoughts. I breathed for the first time almost like a child. I remember observing a child look at the surroundings as though they were brand new. What cannot be purchased is a clear vision without ideas. After some time, I left the park and walked over to the signal where I had to take a different pause. I did not notice the vehicles pass me by, but just their presence to be able to walk over to another direction.
I was interested in what seemed to me a place of pleasant contradictions. While at the airlines hotel, there was a pizza stop. It was a stall. Stopping over for a pizza in the open air coincided with my desire to have a Zen pizza. Under the banyan tree, I lost my mind and came out from a zone of extreme caution to a space free of cares. It was where the conflict between my mind and body found a delicate resolution.
From then on I returned as and when I pleased. When I left, there was nothing left to resolve. There was no food for rationality. I savoured the point at which I found myself in harmony. I did not realize till then that it was as easy as a walk in the park.


Pkayen said...

Thoroughly enjoyed the post. I felt like I was walking along.

Unknown said...

Thanks. I am glad you enjoyed the essay.

Prasad said...

Prose like poetry, this is beautiful and ordinary at the same time:)

Unknown said...

Thank you Prasad. Stay tuned for more.