Whenever I am sad, I look into the sky. This time my sadness lingered longer and I looked into the sky for longer period of time. The sky shares your sadness, I’ve always thought so. Someone’s just smeared the horizon with tender saffron, up to where the sky has been stretched out. They say the sky goes to the infinity but how you believe it when you don’t see anything yonder the hill? (But this never wondered me because I have taken the infinity for granted). Some say Sky’s nothing but a vacuum and isn’t it a genius of mankind that measured the void and named the nothingness? .Whatever, I believe in that mystic force of the sky that keeps us afloat in the air, along with the billions of celestial bodies.
There’s something in the sky that steals your sadness and scatters all over the sky. Those perforated piece of clouds are the perforated piece of your jaded dreams, just been stolen from your heart, it feels so. And those wandering clouds give the sky the look of a worn out quilt of a penniless wanderer, with perforated feathers and fibers inside. Every one of us coil and uncoil and recoil under this huge quilt of the sky never shuddering lest we might fall down to some spot of the Andromeda Nebula since all we are doing is floating in the air. Unconsciously, we entrust our lives to the force of the sky that keeps us afloat.
The deep gaze and meditation towards the sky looses the tightened ropes of the earthly affairs and lessens the pain. It makes you feel what a teeny-weeny existence you bear, it compels you to think how small you are, how small your boss is, how small your men/women folks are, how small everything is, how small your dream is, how small your sadness is, in fact how small your earth is. Bertrand Russell has written somewhere that, there might be creatures residing in some planet, to whom we might be what Jellyfish are to us. It relieves a lot when you realize what a small thing is it that you are crying for, that you are hurting your people for.
This sixth-day moon of the waning phase tells me about the inevitability of the waxing-and-waning phase, moments and events of life. The Sky alone has a lot to teach us, we just need to keep our faculty of wonder open. And hey, have you ever loved the Jupiter like your father? I have. Previously, it used to be my lucky star. Star, brighter the luckier. Just a sight of it would made my another day better. Then later I realized it was my father blessing me every time I greet it. It was glittering like my father, it was graceful like my father and it was distant like my father. Finally I was told that my brightest star is actually not a star but the Jupiter and I happened to love it more than before for I loved the person who introduced me with the Jupiter. And see, now Jupiter symbolizes what I live for, it’s my luck, it’s my grace, it’s my dream and it’s my father .
I feel familiar to all the stars and bodies of the sky, they are like friends, amiable and cool .I converse with those stars and they twinkle back. It’s a strange relationship. I read somewhere, when we are looking at the stars; we are looking a long way back to ourselves. Stars are history in themselves, and they are our history. When we are seeing the star which is a certain light year far from us, we are seeing certain year older star, and if there’s someone atop the star looking at us, s/he might be seeing us certain year older. Did you get my point? It’s not complicated at all .May be I will talk about it later. And this History-factor of the star tells you what a bubble you are comparing to those colossal bodies and forces which are at work in the universe since the time we can not even imagine.
Just think, how many times do we revolve around the sun in our life? In majority of the case, not even a hundred times. And we still boast of being superior to ourselves? And we still are fighting for our twopence ego? And we still strive to win the world? .Oh God!! I’ve been digressing!!I was actually talking about the sadness and the sky. Anyways, now I feel better. I love my mother who is blooming with broccoli and standing tall like the peepal tree in the earth and I love my father who sits at a pole of the Jupiter with an advanced telescope, and I am afloat in the air with all the people I love, between the earth and the sky.
