One afternoon I kept all my work aside . . .


Do you know what afternoon langour truly is? Have you ever experienced it? Come to my room, but softly, you may break it in your hurry – see, it is a golden afternoon – golden and green in its glassy silence that is echoing with the muted afternoon chirping of birds that are weaving their nests outside under thick green bushes. these tender green bushes seem to be taking their afternoon nap under the shade of sun-drenched trees that are singing their age-old afternoon ditties that few notice now. But i have come to love them so deeply that one note on the string anywhere and i can tell what it is. My grandma knew them too; she knew so many of them. What a happy woman she was! But she passed away and the songs she knew passed away with her too. Well, who has time for all that now?  It is a busy and complicated world. The ambitious middle-class is a captive of its market-driven ambition and aspiration and the hard-pressed labouring class of its sorry conditions. silenceMy old house stands today surrounded by a neo-rich poplulation that looks like an oasis in a desert to me. And this middle class demands so much from life today – status has to be maintained at any cost. But i remember my grandparents never knew of all this. They were happy with their old furnitures and old style of life. Few new things could find their way into their old house. Simplicity has become a thing of past friends.

It is a long and thick afternoon, poised delicately bmy windowetween winter and summer. As these fleeting golden afternoon hours slowly vanish forever and the busy birds build their nests and the trees sing on this beautiful day of spring – i know, totally deaf and blind towards all this, all the ‘business’men who dwell in this predatory jungle of concrete, must be busy with their everyday round of files and documents in their offices or shops and their women either dozing off the golden noon in marbel-floored and heavily curtained rooms or watching some soap on their bed and the young ones preparing for life-extracting examinations; and believe me, none of them will ever live life – none of them would ever know the divine song of life. But i have decided to listen to all of them, to listen to them and live my life with simplicity and modesty in their honour.


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