Tuesday, June 30, 2015

RUMINATIONS OF A SOLITARY VISITOR BY A SEA SHORE



From the pen APN 

It was evening and the sea beach glowed with many neon lights. The white foaming waves washed the beach at regular intervals. The beach-side hotels were actively serving many visitors while some other people were roaming along the shore. The gentle sound of the waves lapping the sand filled the atmosphere like a piece of romantic music. Unnecessary noises were shadowed by the sea’s murmuring song and the place was sanctified by nature’s purifying touch. 

The sea and its reverberating song along with the evening sky and the wind from the sea had transformed the place into an abode of deep meditation. 

The sea created an image of vastness and the rippling waves on it signified life. So standing on the shore beneath a lamp post and looking intently towards the breaking waves triggered deep philosophical thoughts which was like a puff of fresh air. 

A boat with its stretched sails was slowly returning to the shore. The rotating beam of light from the light house guided the boat to reach the shore safely. The fisherman’s crew alighted from the boat with their nets and other fishing equipments. They looked tired but they were not disappointed anyway because the sea had given them enough wealth to live happily for the coming day. The smell of the raw fish filled the nostrils...... 

Soon the fish will decorate the plates of many spiritually and physically hungry men and women. They will eat together and then they will sleep together in each other’s arms.

The moon appeared amidst the twinkling stars and the night wore on. Now the number of people on the beach gradually thinned out. Most of the visitors now bade adieu to the night sea and left the place for their homes and families. However, one young man sat motionless staying aloof from the dispersing crowd. He sat meditatively for hours and, in the mean time, the moon seemed as if it came walking from the east sky to the sky just above his head only to give its company to the human form. It was mid-night and the moon was now glancing down.

In the absence of the crowd and with none to stand by his side the last visitor ought to feel sad and lonely but he was on the contrary glad and tranquil. It was because the sandy beach, the silvery light of the crescent shaped moon, the murmur of the rolling waves, the whispering wind and the night sky stood together in all their beauty and power with that last visitor of the day.   

The solitary visitor now stood from his seating place and flexed his muscles. He inhaled a deep breath of pure life giving sea wind and the particles of life force trickled down from all sides that is from the smiling moon, from the endless starry sky, from the sombre sea, from the benign sandy beach and from the fair wind around him.  

With his eyes seaward, in the depths of a meditative absorption, he understood that NATURE NOURISHES and so life continues.

Saturday, June 6, 2015

TO DROWN THE REMINISCENCES OF YOUR WOODEN VOICE AND SWOLLEN FACE

From the pen APN

I thought and thought but could not get a conclusion on how I will express my feelings to you. I thought I will write a poem. Then I thought writing a story would be better........I was in a fix.  I silenced my mind. And my mind constructed your smiling gracious figure that flashed upon the mental eyes. Soon my heart started responding to that magical figure. Waves of love and strong feelings rose in my heart. And I enjoyed the joy of being washed away by the unknown waves of love........

In deep longing I phoned you. I wished to forget my existence in the melody of your sweet voice but you answered me most crudely. You spoke with checks and balances. And you killed the poet in me and you killed the writer in me........
Suddenly, the waves of love subsided and the songs of my tender thoughts receded. But I knew that they would appear once again with more maturity and beauty when the moon would shine and a lovely heart would come behind closed doors to hold my hands with closed eyes and inviting lips.


This time the waves would be bigger and the thoughts deeper to drown the reminiscences of your wooden voice and swollen face.     

Friday, May 8, 2015

An Old Bike

From the pen APN

Berhampur otherwise known as the silk city is now assuming a new shape which is dominated by concrete flyovers and the roads that are divided by iron railings implanted into cemented base. The roads, flyovers and such ancillary structures are constructed to accommodate the speed of the burgeoning town. It is indicative of the restless run of the modern man in a commercialized town.......

While driving a car through the roads I remembered my olden days when I used to ride a 1978 model Yezdi Roadking on the undivided roads in the late nights. The absence of traffic and my solitary journey on the roads at those nights still lingers in my mind. I was a student at that time......

In these 14 years many things have changed. The roads are no more as they used to be. Now riding an old modeled bike in the silence of night won’t fetch the same charm because things have changed a lot. Push-start bikes with four-stroke energy efficient engines, disk-brakes and ergonomic designs have changed the taste of people. Riding an antique bike with its high thumping sound is a lost sight. It causes now many onlookers to raise their eyebrows in surprise and confusion because the Gen-Next hardly knows the brand. Although Royal Enfield bikes continue a tradition in the same line, they come with a lot of improvisations and advancement. So, strictly speaking, the brand Yezdi is a dying cadre. However, it has enough strength and resilience to defy time. To bring the memories back I remodeled my old bike. It was a herculean task to arrange the spare parts of an obsolete bike.
Now the bike looks new and I have grown old but still my heart dances when I see the old friend standing before me in unparalleled beauty.

I told my wife to sit at the back so that we would go on a round together. But she turned her face and walked into the house. I could hear that she was muttering angrily, “I do not know in whose memory you renovated the ramshackle bike paying so exorbitantly.” She walked away peevishly. I could not stop my smile at her fury because her fury and her turning back were directed at some imaginary girl friend which I might have in my past.

Only I and my bike knew whether my wife was correct in her assumptions or not........