It was a full moon night with yellow being the colour of the
landscape. Yellow night, seems like a wild dream, but the moon shone so bright
that the darkness was cluttered and was seen only in the nooks and corners of
the city’s shady places, rest was all yellow: the facades of city’s hotels, the
tinted glasses of the skyscrapers, the thick walls of the tall residential cages,
the black tar roads with mirrors within every yard on them, and the croaking
vehicles, this was the maximum city at its best.
Undulating waves were hitting the shore, every one of them
reminding me of the time spent in my life doing worthless, inconsequential
deeds, fulfilling naive rustic desires and performing the prototyped routines.
Was this night too one of those numerous contemplative ones where the outcome
was a sad face with a tear in the eye? Or was this going to be a tipping point
of my life?
Many a memoirs have been written, many a quotes have been
quoted, many a prose have been read, many a songs have been sung, many a
scripts have been enacted, many a men have shown the way ahead, but there are
only a few who had the courage to tread that path of wisdom and freedom.
Shackles are a part and parcel of man’s modern life, shackles of fear,
prosperity, sincerity, faithfulness and credibility. Remove the shackles and
you will have a soul, these shackles are the defining syllables of the
orchestra called Human Being.
Contemplation gets you closer to the soul, closer to yourself;
it is one of the keys which will open the lock constricting those shackles
wrapped around you. The maximum city has a unique aura and a tune associated
with it, the closer you see or hear it, the need to contemplate becomes direr.
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